Desperate Obsessions, Dangerous Consequences
by Nienna100
Summary: When a man develops an obsession with Legolas, things go drastically wrong, and Legolas' life is put in danger. Will it bring Legolas and Aragorn closer together, or drive them further apart? MPreg, slash, rape. AU
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Tolkien owns most, my muse owns the rest

**Disclaimer: Tolkien owns most, my muse owns the rest.**

Staring up at the ceiling of the room they had been loaned, Aragorn sighed. The room was tiny, smaller even than the tent they normally slept in, and more crowded, and much more unclean. He and Legolas had to share a single bed. The space on the floor was taken up with their packs, and the boxes and wardrobes that belonged in the storage room. It was the only space the village could provide, but it was freezing cold.

"I am sure that we would be warmer outside," grumbled Aragorn, pulling the blankets tighter around him, "If not for the wind." It was dark, and they were trying to sleep, but Aragorn was shivering far too violently for that. He had been momentarily warmed by the deer they had eaten earlier that day. It had been a hard chase for him and his elvish friend to capture the doe, but the tiny town they were staying in was freezing and starving simultaneously. Legolas and Aragorn were there to help them through the hardest winter in many years. The other members of the Dúnedain were littered around the rural villages to help, the same as them.

Legolas hoisted his only blanket of himself and placed it on top those Aragorn had. He could withstand the cold much better than the trembling human. "Would you like to test that theory?"

"No, and thank you," smiled Aragorn. "But you are going to come under here and stay warm as well mellon nin. I am not having you freeze to death as well." Heaving a sigh, Legolas pulled the covers over himself as well and wrapped an arm around Aragorn's waist. He smiled when Aragorn melted against him and the human said, "That is so much better."

"Good, now you can sleep," Legolas said, prodding the human. The two of them were used to such intimacy. They shared everything. Well… at least… almost everything… There was almost nothing that Legolas did not know about Aragorn, and very little that the human did not know about Legolas. When there were only two people in the emptiness of the wilderness, there was nothing for to do but talk with one another. They had told each other their deepest secrets and once you have spent a night curled up, sheltering in an alcove under tree roots together, a bed would not be the limit of how comfortable they were with each other.

"I am planning to," muttered Aragorn, closing his eyes, but a moment later they snapped back open at the noise he had heard. "Did you hear that?" He pulled away and sat up, the sheets pooling around his waist.

Groaning, Aragorn said, "I fear that I may have." They waited, Aragorn tapping his fingers impatiently on the thin mattress, but the sound came again, and this time Legolas jerked up too, swearing. It had been a howl; a high, keening wail that fluctuated in pitch. "Wolves."

"It was closer this time," Aragorn exclaimed, launching himself out of the bed, "They will be coming this way, they will be starving. We can barely keep ourselves from that!"

"They will surround the village, kill anyone they can," gasped Legolas, pulling on a shirt as Aragorn attached his sword to his belt, shirt already on. They had seen the wolves attack before.

"Or, alternatively, the herds around here. The people will die either way."

They met each others' eyes for a single second, and sprinted out of the room, Legolas with only one shoe on, but that was when the first scream sounded. Outside the house, people were running out of their homes into the tiny village's main street. The dozens of ramshackle huts squatted at the bottom of a large valley, and it lacked defensive walls around it. The only thing to protect it was the people inside, and they were running around chaotically, in illogical partners. They would easily be picked off, one by one. A child cannoned into Legolas' legs, crying, before rebounding into his mother's arms. The young, weak ones would be the targets.

A shape in the distance caught his eye, indiscernible to the humans, but easy enough for him to identify. The wolves were spreading out, slinking around the village. They were huge, but were attacking at night; they thought that no one would be able to see them.

Legolas shouted, his voice rising above the panicking crowd. "Get towards the centre; stand by the fire at the middle. Women and children. Men, grab weapons, anything that you can find." Aragorn was muttering quickly to the head of the village, and Legolas gestured fro the Ranger to come closer. He brought the chief with him, and Legolas hurriedly asked, "The animals, they are locked away for the night?"

"Yes," the man reported, "For emergencies such as this." He was trembling ever so slightly, and Legolas saw the glint of the skin that shined on his face, a scar from a wolf attack that had claimed his wife the winter before. Everyone was scared; the heartbreaking howl of a wolf terrified and struck a chord within each heart. Morale would have to be rallied before they had to fight if they wanted to survive.

"Good. Assign four, no, maybe five men to guard it. Armed them with torches at the very least," Legolas ordered, briskly. "Keep ten with the women and children, and go with them. Get the rest with me."

Knowing that Legolas would have the people under control in a matter of moments, Aragorn sidled closer and asked, "Where do you want me?"

"With me," was Legolas' only reply.

Another sound echoed in the darkness, this time not a howl but a bark, as Aragorn and Legolas were joined by eight more man, all that were left unassigned in the village. That as when the battle started. The wolves flooded into the village in unison, rushing inwards as if a dam had broken.

Legolas started with his bow, but only killed three before realising that using them at such short range would be dangerous to the citizens. As he drew out his knives, he shivered at the sharp metallic sound they made when taken out. A grin lit his face when one sliced through a wolf's neck. Perfect. He easily took out several of the vicious creatures before, suddenly, he heard a yell behind him, and whirled to see a man who had been knocked to the floor and was under a huge white wolf, which towered over him. It was massive, bigger than any Legolas had seen before, and he knew that it was the alpha. He threw a short knife towards the wolf and it thudded into his leg. The wolf turned with a growl, mixed with a high yell of pain, and advanced on Legolas, red eyes flashing.

Without warning, it leaped, and only Legolas' lightening fast reactions made him raise his knives fast enough in a cross, to catch the wolf in the chest. In a ripping motion, he jerked the knives away. Warm blood spurted into Legolas' face as he cut the wolf. He blinked it away from his eyes as the huge, snarling wolf crumpled to the floor.

Wiping away the blood with his sleeve, Legolas sucked in a lungful of cool air. He then knelt down next to the fallen man, and asked, "Look at me, I am here to help."

Clutching at his chest, the man gasped, "It squashed… the breath… out of me and… I think it… broke some ribs." Sweat beaded on his pale forehead, and his dark eyes, that Legolas noticed stared in opposite directions, were wild.

"Do not worry, you will be fine," Legolas assured. "Let us get you to the fire. You will be safe there." He hauled the fallen man to his feet, and glanced around. Already there were fewer wolves; these attacks were always swift. Either all the wolves were killed or ran, or the humans face the same fate. "What is your name?"

"Tylin," the man croaked, in a voice barely audible over the yells and howls, as they took uneven steps towards the light of the fire.

"I am Legolas," the elf told him, trying to distract the grimacing human from the pain he was obviously in with every step.

"I know," replied the man, with a smile that was contorted.

Legolas smirked: of course they all knew. Strangers to villages as small as the one they were in were rare, and they had eaten with everyone every night, but he did not pay attention to anyone, but Aragorn and the head of the village. He regretted that in that moment, but abruptly, he whirled around, almost dropping the man he was supporting. It was a scream, and he knew that yell anywhere. He had heard it far too often, and every time it shot through him, almost physically hurting him. "Aragorn!" he exclaimed. "Can you go on your own Tylin?"

"Yes I… think so," Tylin said, and Legolas released him, tearing away to where he knew Aragorn's cry had come from.

Almost immediately, he found the human, next to a dead wolf, lying in a pool of blood, but the human had a hand trying to stem the flow of scarlet near his shoulder. It was not working.

With a fleeting look, Legolas checked the land, and found the wolves had almost all disappeared or been killed. Only three were still engaged in fights, and were being hacked down by groups of men, so e was free to crouch by his friend's side. "Aragorn, are you alright?"

"I could be better," said Aragorn, sitting up. Legolas looped an arm around him, carefully avoiding touching the wound. He could see bone there, and winced.

Watching Aragorn's pale face flickering with pain instead, Legolas murmured, "Come on. We will get you to the Healer's house, mellon nin."

000

Instead of being able to lie down in one of the two beds at the house of the one Healer, the only place Aragorn had to rest was the floor, where he sat up against the wall. The two men in the beds were in much worse states, and Aragorn did not begrudge them the comfort, although he knew that the elf whose shoulder his head rested on, wanted to. "I am alright," Aragorn muttered, watching the Healer frantically rushing around trying to help people, through heavily lidded eyes. He had been given a tea to kill pain, as all the injured had, and it was making him drowsy. The gentle hand rhythmically stroking his hair was not helping him stay awake either. "Calm down."

"You already said that you could be better," Legolas argued in a whisper. "So could everyone in this room."

"What? What do you mean? Are you injured? How could you be better?" gasped Aragorn, jerking upwards to look at his friend.

"Hush. You calm down this time," Legolas soothed. "I would be better if you were not injured, if everyone was unhurt."

Aragorn felt his attention draining away with his energy, and closed his eyes. "At least the wolves are gone now," he muttered.

"And they will not come back," assured Legolas, in the same quiet voice. Aragorn wished he would speak up. One of the men in the beds was screaming, and Aragorn shuddered at the sound, wanting to run from it. It was heart breaking. Legolas spoke again, and Aragorn tried to focus on the elf's musical voice. "I killed the leader."

Internally, Aragorn rolled hi eyes. Legolas would always be the best fighter, it seemed. He would always take down the most powerful, where no one else could. "Showy elf," Aragorn mumbled, flicking Legolas' leg.

"You know that. Go to sleep, human."

000

"How are you feeling?" A voice Aragorn did not recognise broke through his thoughts, and though he tried to reply, his tongue was too thick, his mouth too dry.

Another voice Aragorn did not know, replied in a hoarse, stuttering voice. "The Healer… says I will… be fine in… a month."

"And why are these people here?" the first voice demanded.

Legolas' melodious voice floated into Aragorn's hearing, professing, "Your son said that we could use the spare bed. The room we were staying in was dirty, with Aragorn's would… I was not happy with him in there. Tylin said that this house was clean, and I have to thank you. It is indeed perfect."

"I do not have a whole room for the two of you, and there is only one bed." The first voice spoke again.

"That is alright. We only had one bed before, and we know that this house was not offered because there was no separate room. We also do not mind sharing a room with your son, if he does not mind," Legolas trailed off.

"I do not," the second voice said.

"Legolas…" Aragorn croaked, and almost immediately the back of a soft hand was laid on his cheek.

"Aragorn, are you awake? How are you?" Legolas asked.

Opening unfocused eyes, Aragorn merely wrinkled his nose. His head was spinning from the medication, and he wanted to fall back to sleep. His arm however still hurt, though he knew it would have been fixed as well as it could have been in the situation.

Legolas' smirk hovered above him, as Aragorn was silently guided into a sitting position, and a cool glass of water pressed into his hand. "Drink mellon nin."

He gulped down the cold drink, letting it clear his mouth and relieve the burn in his throat. Once done, he gasped, "Thank you."

His elvish friend perched on the bed, making the mattress dip ever so slightly. "The Healer said that your arm should be better in about three weeks. And you are not allowed to fight until then."

Raising his eyebrows, Aragorn asked, "Fight as in 'lift a sword and stab things with it' or 'argue with you when you try and make me stay in bed for the next two days'?"

"Both," Legolas grinned. From behind the blonde elf, a man slumped in a chair, cleared his voice. Legolas' eyes widened with surprise, as if he had forgotten about him, and said, "Aragorn, this is Tylin, Tylin, Aragorn. This is Tylin's house. He is letting us stay until you can see straight."

Aragorn tried not to laugh, and said, "I am grateful. Thank you." He held out his left hand for the other man to shake, not wanting to move his injured arm and, when it was shaken, Aragorn winced. Tylin's hand was clammy. Over Tylin's shoulder, an elderly woman smiled, presumably the other man's mother.

She and Legolas started to talk, whilst Aragorn just listened to them. They were merely discussing what to make for breakfast, but he saw Tylin watching them with fascination. No, not them. It was hard to say with the man's mismatched eyes, but Aragorn was quite sure that he was gazing at Legolas, and Aragorn did not like the way he leered at his friend.

**A/N: Challenge fic from CameoCorbin. This must be, what, my fifth attempt at this chapter? And this is the best I can mange. I hope it's OK. It's probably not. Let me know.**


	2. Cover Ups

Disclaimer: I do not have enough genius to get even near being able to create Legolas, Aragorn or Thranduil

**Disclaimer: I do not have enough genius to get even near being able to create Legolas, Aragorn or Thranduil. Or Mirkwood.**

Legolas shook him awake at dawn, calling to him, telling him to get up. Naturally, Aragorn complained at being woken up at the crack of dawn, having always hated getting out of bed unless he had to. "I do not want to. It is not even properly light yet."

"But it is your birthday. You have to rise so I can give you your present," Legolas argued.

"Our birthday," Aragorn countered. When he was just a child, he had been irritated by the fact that none of his elvish family or friends celebrated their birthdays, but they celebrated his, every year without fail. In outrage, the young Estel decided to deign March 1st everyone's birthday, and gave presents to everyone he considered a friend — Aragorn's father, Aragorn's brothers, Glorfindel, Erestor, Lindir, Legolas, and Legolas' two brothers and sister, Caradlas, Baranlas and Luinlas — all received gifts from Aragorn on March 1st, and gave to him in turn.

"Yes, our birthday," sighed Legolas. "Come, gift time."

Becoming more coherent, Aragorn said, "I have been stuck here for months. I could not get anyone gifts. How could you. . .?"

"I am a genius," Legolas tugged him out of the bed, and ordered, "Get dressed. Come on."

Quarter of an hour later, Aragorn was outside, soft blindfold tied around his eyes. "I am not sure why you have this in your pack, and I will ask questions about it at a later date. Once it is off my eyes and my life is not in your hands."

"Your life is always in my hands," growled Legolas, close to his ear.

Aragorn rolled his eyes, and merely said, "Take it off."

"I will take it off when it pleases me to do so," Legolas told him, hands on the human's waist, keeping him in the right direction.

"And when will it please you to do so?" Aragorn asked. His steps were careful, but not too much more than usual. He always trusted Legolas with his life.

"Just about now, mellon nin," Legolas peeled the blindfold off.

In the sudden light, Aragorn blinked, and then frowned. "It is Salile. I do not know whether the two of you have met, but he has been my horse for the past few years actually."

"Yes and you can ride him again," announced Legolas, and Aragorn flung his arms around the elf briefly.

"Thank you!" the human exclaimed. It had taken a fortnight for Legolas to let him use the arm, a month of training before he was permitted to hunt again, and he had not been allowed to ride. "Can we leave, now please? I want to sleep in a bed with room for more than one person, and have a hot bath for once, and. . ."

"Me too. Home is only a day's ride away. We can be there tonight if we are fast." Legolas grinned. "Come on. Pack your bags and say your goodbyes."

000

A half hour later, Aragorn was seated on Salile, watching Legolas say the final goodbyes, talking to Tylin rapidly. The man had latched onto the elf in the past few weeks, and Aragorn was, frankly, quite glad to be away from the man. When Legolas hugged the human, Aragorn winced and look up to the sky. Loudly, eyes still on the clouds, Aragorn called, "Legolas, it is going to rain. I want to be in Mirkwood walls beneath Mirkwood roves before we get soaked."

"Coming," Legolas called back, and with one last word back at Tylin, he trotted over to his horse and swung himself up. The two of them turned their horses away and trotted away from the village. Once out of earshot, Legolas muttered, "You do not like Tylin do you?"

Knowing that Legolas was already aware of the answer, Aragorn could only reply, "No, I do not."

"Why?" demanded Legolas, eyes blazing at Aragorn as he turned to glare. "He was a good man, and he let us use his home."

"And he took you and refused to let go. You would seek him out first after coming back from hunting and. . . ." Aragorn abruptly managed to control his thoughts and bit down on his tongue.

A deep crease formed between Legolas' eyebrows, and he said, "Tylin was just being a friend." At Aragorn's soft snort, he added, "You sound very jealous, Aragorn."

"I am not. I just did not like him. I am not jealous," Aragorn hastily said, perhaps a little too hastily.

With something of a self-satisfied smirk on his face, Legolas rode on.

000

They did not stop riding until lunch, and that was more to rest their horses than anything else. Leaning his back against a tree as he sat, Aragorn asked, "What are we eating? No, wait, in ten seconds you are going to pass me a piece of bread and an apple."

Legolas emerged from the bag and handed the human the food. "Bread and a peach actually, mellon nin."

"Ah, variety," sniggered Aragorn, and took a deep bite of the sweet, juicy fruit. He tapped the ground next to him. Legolas dropped down, eating his own bread.

"I try to keep things interesting." Legolas smirked. "But it will be better when we get home. We can eat so much more than smoked veal and Valar knows what those 'vegetables' were."

"We could eat full stop, or you could." Legolas turned to Aragorn and frowned at his chiding tone. "You have lost weight. And do not give me the excuse of not wanting to limit the food of those villagers. It will not work once we get back to Mirkwood."

"They were starving and—"

Legolas suddenly whipped his head away, his long hair flicking Aragorn in the face. His voice lowered to a barely audible whisper. "I think I heard someone."

"Footsteps?" mumbled Aragorn, leaning forwards to keep his voice quiet.

Legolas merely inclined his head, but then, after a moment, shook it. "It was probably nothing." He leant back against the tree and took another bite, a frown still creasing his forehead. Aragorn watched the fair elf's profile from the corner of his eye, concerned at the tight lines of tension around the elf's eyes, but eventually turned back to his own meal. As he ate, Legolas kept on glancing around the tree worriedly. After five minutes of it, Aragorn groaned, "This does not feel right to you. Come, Legolas. We shall leave."

"Thank you," was Legolas' only reply, and they rode away, further into the woods.

They could not ride fast, even in the beginnings of the forest: the trees were too close together, the paths too narrow, the tree roots too narrow. The fastest they could go was a trot, and that was only a fraction of the time, when the paths were wide and clear.

When it started to rain an hour later, the two both groaned. Though the trees caught the worst of the storm, the trail became slippery, and they were forced to slow even further. It was late at night when the riders were able to her the comforting clang of the Mirkwood Fortress' doors behind them.

"Home at last," sighed Legolas.

"So sorry to have kept you," Aragorn said, in a voice laden heavily with sarcasm.

"So you should be," Legolas immediately shot back. A cry from up the wide stone stairs distracted them, and Legolas found a short, blonde female squeezing his waist so tightly his eyes started to pop. Gasping, Legolas managed, "Luinlas . . . can not . . . breathe. . ." He turned pleading azure eyes to Aragorn, but the human merely grinned, holding up his hands. A moment later, two more sets of arms were firmly hugged around Legolas. The elf was lost in a sea of three other blondes.

When he was eventually released, Legolas choked for air and stumbled back into Aragorn. "Dear Elbereth. I have not been gone that long."

"Long enough," scolded Luinlas, hands on her hips. She was younger than two of the siblings, but bossed all the boys around with no shame. It was like their mother was back, and Legolas, as the youngest child, was ordered around the most.

"More than long enough," Caradlas exclaimed. As the oldest of the four siblings, he at least had every right to tell Legolas off.

So did Baranlas, as the second oldest, who asked, "Where have you been?"

"Is this some sort of inquisition?" asked Legolas. "What happened to 'hello Legolas. We have missed you. Are you alright?'"

"We did that with the hug," said Caradlas. "Move on, toron."

Aragorn sniggered in the background as the family bickered jovially.

"We were stuck within a village, and we decided to stay for a while longer than intended," Legolas merely said, leaving out the fact that Aragorn had been injured, and the human was grateful for that. "But I am home now, and we are both wet and tired."

"And hungry," Aragorn added. When the elves' attention switched to him, he blushed. "Well it is true. We cut lunch short."

"Why?"

Legolas and Aragorn glanced at each other. "It started raining," Legolas tried, and the siblings accepted that without question.

"Come, we shall leave the hallway, and you can get all you need," Baranlas said, softly. "And I will tell Atar that you are here."

000

Warm and clean at last, Legolas pushed open the door to Aragorn's borrowed room. Immediately, he blushed and wondered if he should try to close the door, but the naked human had turned and met Legolas' eyes. Legolas kept his eyes on the human's face, refusing to let them stray lower.

"I am dressing, I am coming. These clothes do not fit. I am going to have to wear dirty ones," Aragorn rapidly said, panic in every one of his movements.

"You will not wear worn clothes, not to dinner," exclaimed Legolas. "You will embarrass yourself and me. Stay there, and cover yourself up." It hurt to say that.

Aragorn snorted, "I am not about to go anywhere like this."

Hurriedly, Legolas returned to his rooms and grabbed an outfit he thought would fit, and then, back at Aragorn's room, threw it at the human. "We are the same height, so that should be alright. Your shoulders are slightly broader than mine, but it should fit. It is a little too wide for me anyway."

"What are you trying to say about me?" Aragorn asked, as he pulled the crisp red shirt on.

"That you are slightly wider than me. I am . . . slightly thinner than you, that is all," Legolas calmly said. "Besides, you . . . Aragorn, your leggings are on backwards. Slow down, we are not in that much of a rush." A gong sounded downstairs, summoning them for dinner. Legolas winced, "We can be late. Apparently late is fashionable at the moment."

"It is not fashionable, it is never going to be fashionable, it is just rude," argued Aragorn, as he fixed his leggings. He then straightened his clothes, and said, "Very well, let us go."

"Aragorn . . . your hair is . . . despicably knotted. Have you ever heard of a mirror? Sit down, calm down, and relax," Legolas said, pushing the human down into a chair. Pulling a hairbrush from the drawer of the dressing table, he began to run it through the human's hair. "Atar is not going to attack us for being late. All there will be is soup for them to start with, and you have never liked soup of any kind."

"And it will be cold," Aragorn said, as the elf pulled the brush through his hair one last time, and began to plait the curly hair at his temple.

"Precisely."

They sat in silence, Aragorn rolling his eyes as Legolas fussed over him, until the elf put the brush down and tugged a lock of Aragorn's hair playfully. "Come on then, mellon nin. Let us go."

000

Thranduil tapped his fingers against his plate frantically. Did his son not realise that there were impatient people invited to his welcome home dinner? His youngest child had been taught manners, or at least, so Thranduil had thought.

"Atar, stop it," hissed Luinlas from her chair next to her father, who was at the head of the table. She put her hand over his agitated one, and continued, "He will not be long. He has only just come home. He will have had things to do."

Next to her, Baranlas subtly inclined his head in agreement with his sister. Thranduil glanced done to the opposite bed of the table, where Caradlas was holding court. The blonde felt his father's gaze on him, and tapped the bowl of soup before him. It was a symbol agreed between the patriarch and his heir a long time before: the people were getting hungry, getting impatient, and the food getting cold.

"Honoured guests," Thranduil called out, "Please, let us start."

As Thranduil started on the bowl, he had to hide a grimace: the previously steaming bowl of the thick liquid and the hot, fresh roll beside it was only lukewarm. He glared at the two empty places beside him, opposite his daughter and second son. The places where Legolas and Aragorn should have been.

They came in during the second course, laughing at each other as the door swung open. When all eyes turned to stare at them, they blushed ever so slightly and quieted down. In silence, they took their seats.

"Hello, Atar," Legolas quietly said, with the small smile that was so characteristically him. Indicating the fish, he said, "This looks delicious."

"It tastes delicious too. You would know already had you turned up in time," Thranduil said, looking around the table to make sure no one was listening to him reprimand his son. Everyone had gone back to their conversations.

"We were busy," Legolas said. "There were things to do. Baths to have, clothes to find. . . . You have come back late from enough patrols in your time to understand that, surely."

Aragorn looked away from the two of them, feeling as if he was intruding on something private by listening in. He started on the fish instead; it was indeed delectable, as was the wont of all the food that came from the Mirkwood kitchens.

"Well, you are here now at least. That is what matters, ion nin," Thranduil grumbled, with a resentful smile as he picked at his fish.

Smirking ever so slightly at Aragorn, Legolas started to eat.

000

Sipping at his wine, Legolas had not been able keep the smirk off his face all dinner. Aragorn had been drinking the wine too, and elvish wine was a lot stronger than the human versions that Aragorn was used to. Elrond always used to subtly water Aragorn's down when he drank. Thranduil, however, did not realise that.

Then Aragorn's tipsiness started to show, and the human began to drop off, dozing against Legolas' shoulder. Eventually, when they had finished dessert — the fifth course — Legolas said, "I think we may excuse ourselves, Aragorn and I; as you can tell, we are very tired from our adventures."

The friends, family, and politicians called their goodnights, and Aragorn was practically pulled out of the room.

An arm around his friend's waist, Legolas guided him away.

"This is not the way to my bedroom," mumbled Aragorn, looking even more confused than before.

"We are going outside to get some fresh air, so that you may clear your head. Possibly. I _hope,_ at least, otherwise your head will pound and I will be forced to look after you and pretend that you are feeling unwell for reasons other than wine, to save you humiliation," Legolas calmly explained, being far too reasonable for Aragorn's liking.

Aragorn managed a short glare as Legolas pushed open the secret side door that was almost indistinguishable from the wall, inside and out. "Alright," he muttered, as he was led into the cool, fresh night air. They wandered towards the wall of trees, and paused at the edge of them. Aragorn rubbed his arms in the cold. "I need a drink."

"You do not need another drink, you have had more than enough, mellon nin," Legolas said, rolling his eyes.

"I meant water or something," Aragorn growled. "You always think the worst of me."

"As you do me." Legolas sniggered, pointing Aragorn towards the bench at the wall. Grumbling, Aragorn obeyed.

"I resent that comment."

"Because it is true."

"No, I would resemble that comment if it were true."

"You would _resemble _the comment?" Legolas asked. "Aragorn, you are a little drunk." For a moment, he left Aragorn at the bench and went and grabbed a glass of fruit juice. When he returned, Aragorn gulped it gratefully, and then sat with the cold glass against his forehead.

"Thank you," Aragorn said, and then added, "And thank you . . . for the cover ups. The clothes, the justifications and excuses. . . ."

"What are friends for." Legolas smiled.

They did not notice as they moved back inside, that eyes watched them from the darkness.

**A/N: Tada. Wow, this chapter's all done rather fast. Thank you to Rent-a-Blank for betaing this. –smile-**


	3. Rape

Disclaimer: Not mine

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Never mine. **

"Aragorn, Aragorn, come on, come on, we have to go. We have to go!" exclaimed Legolas, practically bouncing up and down on the spot.

With lazy, infuriating slowness, Aragorn put down his polishing cloth for his sword and looked up. "Where must we go? Why must we go? And more specifically, why must _I _go?" he asked.

"Come on Aragorn, speed up. Someone spotted a white hart in the wood and I wish to go and hunt it. Come with me," Legolas demanded, grinning excitedly. "Come on, quickly now, mellon nin or it will get away. They are calling everyone out to try and catch it."

Aragorn sighed, "Must I? My sword got in a terrible state when we were away and I am trying to save it."

"Very well," groaned Legolas. "You shall miss out on it again. You missed out on the hart when Tylin and I hunted too! It will be fun."

"Because you would not let me. And, I have to clean all this armour."

The elf rolled his eyes, "Very well. I will talk to you later then, once I have found and caught it. I have to run before somebody else does."

"Go. Good luck."

000

The creature was in his sights, as Hanoni's muscles bunched and stretched under him, racing after the hart, flashes of white through the trees. "Swiftly now Hanoni, I want him," he urged.

If he gained only a few more meters more on the animal then he would be able to get an arrow into it, and it would be his. It was not often that the Mirkwood people enjoyed hunting for sport — they normally only hunted for food — but a white hart was special. They were supposed to be caught so that they could be appreciated. And the feasts after the hunts were the most splendid ever had other than those for weddings.

Hanoni rode on, racing as fast as she could, until suddenly, Legolas rode past a man. A man he knew. At once, he ordered Hanoni to stop. When she skidded to a halt, Legolas warily dismounted and walked back to the man. He had been hidden in trees, only his face peering out, but Legolas knew him.

"What in Elbereth's name are you doing here Tylin?" Legolas exclaimed, moving towards the man. Nervously, Tylin looked away as he muttered his response.

"You said that I should g-get out of the village, that . . . that I should travel. Well, I trav-travelled here. You did say that I could v-visit."

"Yes, but that was only a fortnight ago! I was not expecting you quite so soon. And how did you get here? Mirkwood is like a labyrinth set up by goblins." Legolas rubbed at his eyes. He had been on the hunt for over an hour and in his haste he had forgotten to bring a skin of drink. He was parched, hot and exhausted.

Instead of answering Legolas' question, though staring at him unwaveringly, Tylin said, "You look like you . . . you could use a d-drink my friend."

"You are a mind reader, Tylin. Yes, I would kill for some water."

Tylin had a leather satchel on his back and began to search through it. "You alw-ways rub at your . . . your eyes when your he-head hurts, and it . . . it only does that w-when you're thirsty," he muttered as he rooted in the bag. He spoke in such a quiet voice that Legolas only caught half of the words. At last Tylin extracted a flask and passed it to the elf.

"Thank you," smiled Legolas as he opened it.

"H-help yourself. I have lots," the human assured him, staring at the ground.

"Interesting flavour, this juice," commented Legolas, searching desperately for something, anything to say. He had never been in such a position before — a friend appearing from nowhere with no reason. He did not want to say anything that might spook him away before he was comfortable enough to give an explanation.

"My mother ma . . . made it," stuttered Tylin.

Without warning, dizziness swept over Legolas; an irrational heat pricked at his skin, buzzing started up in his ears and he was unable to concentrate on what Tylin was saying, black spots burst in front of his eyes. He took another gulp of drink, trying to clear the nausea, but if anything it served to make it worse. Glancing at the herb drink, realisation struck. "Did you. . . ."

Everything went black.

000

Aragorn scrubbed at the iron, grumbling at the rust and scratches pock-marking it. Exhausted after a while, he put the cloth down and stretched his aching hands. He regretted not going with his friend, who had obviously been so excited, but he really did have to deal with his armour before it got any worse. Chain mail, sword, knives, his horse's tackle . . . all had to be looked after and had been abandoned when he had not been allowed to use his arm.

He could not help feeling that he ought to have gone with Legolas. He was his best friend after all . . . Maybe he should go and find him? See if he could catch up with the hunt. . . .

After all, Legolas had asked him too. He would surprise him.

Grinning, he stood, and jogged to the stables.

000

Consciousness returned slowly for Legolas and, as he was gradually pulled back to reality, he was filled with the feeling of being violated. And then he realised; he _was_ being violated, he was being filled, he was being thrust into violently, again and again. Grunts filled the air.

He snapped his eyes open, instinctively struggling, trying to get away from it, but he was tied fast, face down in the grass. "Let me go. Let me go!" Legolas ordered, trying to force himself to clear his head, but everything swum in front of him.

"You never knew, you ne-never knew that I love . . . loved you, Legolas," growled Tylin above him, on top of him. "So I w-will have to . . . to show you." His already stammering voice came in heavy gasps. "I will, I will sh-show you I love you."

"Let me loose," snarled Legolas. He pulled at the ropes tying him down. The rope dug into his wrists painfully, but that was nothing compared to the pain of Tylin inside him. That was agony. "I will kill you if you do not."

"You c-can't if you're tied." Suddenly Legolas felt Tylin shoot into him, and Legolas could not keep back the tear that slid from his eye. After a long, fear-filled moment of silence, where the only thing that could be heard was Tylin's harsh breathing, the human withdrew from him. "You . . . you see now?" he stammered.

"No," spat Legolas. "For Elbereth's sake, no, damn it, for my sake, let me go. If you loved me you would let me go. Untie me."

"Stay h-here," said Tylin, pulling on his trousers from the floor. "I have to . . . to get thi-things ready. Then w-we can leave."

"Like I am going anywhere," Legolas hissed, as he was left alone. He heard Tylin walking away, until he fell out of hearing range. And therefore . . . earshot. "Help!" he called. He hated that he could not help himself, but the ropes were tied fast around his wrists and his feet. He was forced to get help from elsewhere instead. Elves would be able to hear him, they were littered throughout the forest. "Help me, someone!" His voice cracked as he yelled, but he managed to twist so that he was facing up; it was marginally better.

"Damnation, _somebody_!" How could he scream any louder? Surely somebody would come.

"Sh-shut up!" Tylin's voice made Legolas jump; he had come up from behind, and Legolas had not heard him over his own yells.

"Never," professed Legolas, arching his back to try and struggle from the ropes. "You can not still me, no matter how much you try. Someone will get me out. I will go nowhere with you."

"Yes you . . . you will," said Tylin, straightening his curved shoulders, as he began to untie the ropes from the tree. Legolas grinned: how stupid could one human get?

"He will not," snarled another voice. Legolas looked up, and a painful burst of relief leaped in his chest. Aragorn! Before he knew what had happened, a sword thudded into Tylin's chest, and the human fell to the ground.

"You . . . You killed him," Legolas stammered, and the relief overwhelmed him. The numbness and the determination to stay alive that had been driving him forwards dissipated, and everything fell apart.

He had been useless, pathetic. He had let that madman rape him, hurt him in the worst possible way. And he had been unable to do anything to defend himself and, Valar, he had befriended him, invited the obsession and he had ignored. He deserved to be raped; he had given the human false hope, led him on. Maybe this was his punishment. But ai, it had hurt. It still hurt, that stabbing pain inside him where no one else had ever gone. Legolas had been in others, he was naturally dominant, and he despised the lack of control he had just experienced . . . and the pain. Surely he had not made others felt that when he had been inside them? Surely not. He felt . . . dirty. Inside him, coupled with the raw pain, was the itch of dried seed. It was disgusting.

Hands touched him, at the welts on his wrists, and Legolas jerked away, curling in on himself. He did not want to be touched; suddenly he could not stand the contact of rough, hot skin against his. He had trusted Tylin, and he had been betrayed by him in the most primordial way. Who was to say that someone else would not do the same thing. He felt hot tears on his cheeks without warning.

Legolas felt a wave of coldness sweep through him. He had had never felt as cold as that, but it was not surprising; he was naked in the middle of a forest. The damp grass stuck to his skin, freezing. The wind raged at him. Then, warm, soft fabric was placed around his shoulders and, though Legolas could not restrain a shudder, no hands touched him. The thick fabric blanketed him, staving off some of the cold.

He became aware of a voice speaking to him, and, with a seemingly huge amount of effort Legolas found himself to concentrate on it "— but your clothes are soaking wet. I can see that you are shivering."

Though he spoke in little more than a murmur, Legolas knew that it was Aragorn. And if he could trust anyone it was Aragorn; Aragorn who he shared almost everything with, Aragorn who he had shared so many adventures with, Aragorn who had seen him in so many situations.

Summoning up his voice and his strength, Legolas managed to force words out, "Aragorn . . . Aragorn do you love me?"

Urgently, Aragorn said, "Legolas, you can hear me? Tell me, are you hurt? I was looking for you, and then I came across your horse wandering about, not tied up, and it took me this way, and then I heard you screaming and—"

He could not think, he could not listen. "Just, Aragorn please, tell me, do you love me?" Each word was a struggle to force out, and by the end of his short sentence he was exhausted by the effort.

"Of course, of course I love you, more than anything."

"You promise me?"

"Yes of course."

"Then if you really love me you would never hurt me like that. Would you?" Legolas forced his previously scrunched up eyes open, and he was able to see Aragorn's face, twisted with concern as he answered his question.

"No, I would never hurt you. Surely you know that," whispered Aragorn, meeting his eyes with his distressed silver ones. He must have seen the fear that Legolas knew was evident in his face, because he spoke again in the gentlest tone Legolas had ever heard him use. "Legolas, I love you, and I would never hurt you. I just want to get you back to your home, so that you can be safe and looked after." He offered Legolas a hand and asked, in the same tender tone, "Will you let me do that for you?"

Not trusting his voice to work, Legolas nodded, and accepted the hand. Aragorn helped him to his feet, and then shifted his grip to around his waist to support him when he walked. A robe fell to his knees, and Legolas realised that the fabric that had been so carefully placed around his shoulders was Aragorn's cloak.

Tentatively, Legolas glanced behind him to catch sight of Tylin's body, lying where it had fallen minus only the sword. Aragorn noticed where he looked and, his voice turning harsh, said, "Let him be there. Let him rot." He guided Legolas away to where his dark mare was standing, waiting, and Legolas swung himself over onto her back. The moment his legs were wide, he froze, gasping for breath as agony shot through him. A whimper escaped his lips. He could not move. The pain inside him was too intense. "Legolas? Legolas are you alright? Legolas!?"

The next thing he knew, he had been pulled down to the ground, and was standing, trembling in Aragorn's rms. "You're alright. You're alright now," came the murmuring voice in his ear. But he was wrong. It was not alright. Nothing would be alright. "He is gone now." _But the marks of his attack were still there._ "He can not hurt you." _Except every time he moved._

The tone changed. "Legolas, Legolas, there is blood. Legolas, where did the blood come from? Are you hurt Legolas?" All he could do was nod. Aragorn undid the robe and it slid to the ground. Legolas did not bother covering himself up; what was the point? Aragorn had already seen his naked body, and Tylin had already stolen its sanctity. There was no point.

Legolas was turned around, and heard a stifled gasp behind him, as Aragorn whirled him back round to face him. "He raped you. He raped you are tore you inside doing so, didn't he?" Aragorn demanded. His hands curled into fists, as his face twisted in ager. "If I could I would bring him back, and tear him from life slowly, again and again. He should suffer, suffer so much for that."

Terrified, Legolas stood stock still, until Aragorn, taking furiously harsh breaths, turned to him. At the elf's expression, he looked horrified. "I am not going to hurt you. I never will, Legolas, believe me. You know I love you too much for that." He enfolded the tense elf in his arms, holding him against his chest until he relaxed. Without warning, Legolas began to sob.

"He hurt me, more than anything has ever hurt. I feel so dirty, poisoned, poisonous. I want this to never have happened. I want to wake up and for it to be morning. I want to feel safe," Every word was an arrow of guilt through Aragorn's heart. Had he not insisted on staying behind, this would not have happened. They would have ridden together, and Legolas would not have been touched by that madman Tylin.

Aragorn summoned up his strength. Legolas was in no fit state to be thinking, so he had to take charge. "You will be, you will be safe. I am not going to let go of you until we get back to the castle, and even then it will only be if I have to. I am here for you. I will keep you safe. Now," he released Legolas' shoulders and instead laced his fingers through Legolas', linking their hands together. "You may not be able to ride, but we can walk. That is less painful, mellon nin?" A nod. "Good. And then we will get you into a bed and have a healer make you better. I am sorry, but I do not know how to help your injuries."

"It is alright. Just get me home."

**A/N: So our first dramatic bit complete. –Hugs Legolas- I'm sorry, I'm sorry. But it wasn't my idea! I'm just the pen here! Cameo was the one who had the idea! Review of course.**

**Beta's note: Holy crap can this girl keep me on my feet! I think I've edited more of your stuff in two days than I have any of my own in three months XP**


	4. Fight for Normality

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Obviously. Never is. My profit comes from the shiny reviews you send to me.**

They stumbled back to Mirkwood after far too long. Aragorn just left Salile and Hanoni inside the stable, hoping that someone else would rub them down and feed them. Legolas was more important at that moment. The elf insisted on going through the side door, and Aragorn conceded. The trembling elf looked terrible; frighteningly pale, hair mussed, wearing nought but Aragorn's cloak. He could understand why he did not want to be seen.

He led him, arms tight around his shoulders, until Legolas asked, "Where are you taking me? We just walked past my rooms."

"I know. We are going to the Healers. You have to be looked at, you have to have these wounds cleaned and treated. You may heal faster than this lowly mortal but you are being examined anyway," Aragorn instructed.

Pulling out of the grip, Legolas snapped, "I am not going to the Healers."

Stubbornly crossing his arms, Aragorn said, "Yes you are. You have to. Do not make me force you."

Legolas' whole face blanched at that, and, without a word, he turned on his heel and all but fled back into his rooms. Suddenly, Aragorn realised what he had said wrong. Legolas thought… ai Elbereth, no. He hurried towards Legolas' rooms and rapped on the door. "Legolas, Legolas, come out mellon nin. I am not going to do anything to you I swear. I will not touch you, it is just… you need to go to a Healer. You are in pain and they can fix that. Legolas!" He tried the handle, but found it locked.

Sighing, he forced himself to walk away. The elf was probably terrified, and he was not doing any good shouting at him. He had to walk away.

000

Legolas dropped down onto his bed, and began to sob. He knew, deep down, he knew that Aragorn would not hurt him. He had known him too long and loved him too much. But that was his mind telling him that, his body was screaming to him to flee, as far away as he could. And not just to flee away, to flee across the sea, in a home where it would all be better. His father had other, better children, he would not miss him, and he could see his mother again. He had always been her favourite.

But that was not fair on Aragorn, and neither was his reaction to him trying to do what was best for him. And yet… Legolas knew that he could not go. He could not tell anyone that he had been used, that he was dirty. Or he would never be wanted again. He needed to keep it a secret, and he had to get clean.

The Fortress was a cold place, but Legolas was on the second floor. On the first floor they heated water from the river for cooking, laundry and washing, and in the bathroom, Legolas was able to draw up clean water to pour it into his bath, which he did so with muscles that shrieked in protest.

Then he submerged himself in the water and scrubbed himself down. And scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed. He could not get clean enough, despite the fact that the soil and grass washed off with no trouble. Before he felt even near clean enough, the water was clod and tinged with red. It took him a moment to realise why, but then blinked when he realised that it was his blood. That was when he clambered out, towelled off, and with great presence of mind, pulled on a thickly towelled robe and a pair of cropped leggings to try and stem the blood somewhat, before he fell into bed.

He did not want to think anymore. He wanted to sleep, he needed to sleep. Now that he was alone and felt somewhat safe… the doors were bolted shut, no one could get in at him, and he was as safe as could be. He buried his head in his feather pillows, and relaxed, hugging himself slightly, holding himself together, he sank into an uneasy sleep.

000

Aragorn paced up and down in his bedroom, deep in his thoughts. He did not know how he could help his friend. It was not fair on Legolas for such a horrific thing to have happened to him… the elf was the sweetest person he knew. Aragorn just had to make things better for him.

He found himself wearing a hole into the carpet, still clueless as to how to help two hours later, but then there came a rapping on his door. "Legolas!" he gasped and hurried to the door. He jerked the door open, and he knew that his face fell visibly when he saw who it was. "Baranlas, hello."

"Were you expecting someone else?" asked the elf. "I am sorry. It is only me."

"So I can see." Aragorn forced himself to smile. "How can I help you mellon nin?"

"I just wanted to tell you, we caught the white hart. There is feasting and dancing and music," he grinned. "We want you and Legolas to come on down, though you may want to dress up a little. Is Legolas around?"

Aragorn knew that he could not tell Legolas' brothers what had happened to him. That would be up to Legolas, and if the elf would not go to the Healers, he might not be going to tell his family either. He might be trying to hide it, he did not know, so he said, "He is in his rooms. I will go and get him. I expect you have a lovely elleth waiting for you, down on the dance hall."

Shooting him a grateful grin, Baranlas said, "Yes, there is. Thank you." He pranced away.

Hurriedly, Aragorn washed and changed into more formal clothes, then went to find his friend.

000

A loud knocking came on the door, forcing Legolas out of his blessed unconsciousness. His breath caught in his throat as everything that had happened that morning submerged him, and he had to force himself out of the warmth of his bed to the door. He knew that he had to leave his room; he had to act normal, be normal.

Tying his robe tight around him, he fixed his smile upon his face and pulled open his door. It was only Aragorn, and he let his smile slip. "Good. It is you."

"Your face says that my presence is not as good as you say it is," sighed Aragorn. "May I come in? Will that be alright?"

Legolas nodded and forced himself to say, "I am sorry about earlier. I was overwhelmed and…"

Holding up his hands, Aragorn interrupted, "There is nothing to be sorry about. You are going through something that I could never fathom. You… are hurting in a way I can not imagine, and... I will do anything to help you through it, even if that means leaving you on your own."

"No, I do not want to be on my own anymore. I need to be doing something normal," Legolas said, pushing his hand through his slightly damp hair, as he moved away to let his friend in. "Why are you here, or is it just to see me?" His lips turned up in a half smile at that last thought.

Aragorn pushed the door to, but did not close it. He did not want Legolas to feel trapped. "There is a party going on. I wanted to know if you wanted me to make excuses for you, if you wanted to stay here."

Legolas' eyebrows shot up, and he asked, "Why would I not go? I want to be normal. I do not want to have anyone else know. I will go, just let me get changed."

Confused, Aragorn could only watch as Legolas frantically changed and braided his hair. "Legolas, you… I am sorry but you have just been raped. You need to rest, you need to…"

"No, what I need to do is something normal," snapped Legolas, flying closer. "I need for my family to know that I am alright, or they will become curious. I have to go, I need to be normal."

The only response Aragorn could give was sigh. "Alright, mellon in. I am not going to control you, just to help you."

Swallowing heavily, Legolas said, "I know." He paused, pulling at the fine embroidery at the base of his tunic, staring down at it and not meeting his friend's eyes. "I just need to prove that I am strong."

Aragorn shook his head with a groan. "Do you not understand, Legolas? We can all see that you are strong. You survived. That is the strongest thing you could ever have done."

That at least made Legolas raise his head, "How do you mean?"

"It is a contest to your strength that you survived that Legolas. So many others would have given up, right there. But you did not, you fought. Those marks at your wrists, from where you struggled, are testament to your fight and to your strength," Aragorn said loudly. The words made Legolas flinch, though a small smile appeared on the elf's face at the sentiment.

"Thank you," Legolas said. He laced up his boots, and then stood. "Come on now. They will be expecting us."

"Legolas, I was expecting my words to make you go back to bed or go to Healers! You ought to stop dancing about," Aragorn hissed. "Please Legolas, please my friend. I just want you to deal with this, to be alright."

"I am alright. I have stopped bleeding, everything is normal. I do not want to deal, I want to go down there and dance," he stubbornly said. "Now, do you wish to dance with me? Because otherwise, I am leaving you behind." Aragorn noticed how he pulled his sleeves down as far as they would go, and had picked the longest shirt to cover the abrasions on his wrists.

With a sigh, Aragorn followed him out of the room.

000

It was impressive how… elvish Legolas could be. He spoke little, and yet seemed as open as ever. He moved as little as possible, and yet seemed as graceful and as painless as he normally did. He rarely smiled, and yet gave an air of enjoying the festivities. It was so… elvish. His face was mostly expressionless.

Aragorn spent most of his time next to Legolas – not many elves wanted to dance or talk with 'the human' – and he alone noted the very subtle, very infrequent winces, and how, when Legolas forced himself to dance he was just a little bit stiff and reluctant. But no one else noticed.

And then... Legolas slipped away. He vanished. No one noticed him go, but, after extracting himself from one young elf, Aragorn glanced around. Where was he? As he searched for the elf, suddenly he found Thranduil coming up close to him. The elf looked as severe as ever as he asked, "Where is Legolas? I thought he was supposed to be here, but I saw him last about twenty minutes ago."

"I do not know, I was just looking for him," replied Aragorn, trying to search past his shoulder. "I know that he was feeling tired earlier. Maybe all his dancing has worn him out. I will go and check on him, if you wish."

Thranduil looked at him with a reluctant smile, and said, "Thank you. That would be helpful."

"My pleasure." That was a lie. Aragorn was not sure what Legolas was doing, where he was… but he at least knew something of what was going through his mind. He was the only one who knew what had happened, and that thought was terrifying, because he did not know to help.

Leaving the room, he trotted through the hallways, and arrived quickly at Legolas' room. He passed no one, they were all celebrating. He did not knock, in case he was sleeping, and slipped into the room. It was dark in the room, only one candle lit in the alcove above his bed. The golden light warmed Legolas' profile from where he lay on top of his covers, still clothed as before.

Aragorn felt himself melt ever so slightly, and moved into the room. Legolas was facing up to the ceiling, his hair splayed out, rolling across the pillow. Aragorn turned to leave, to let Legolas sleep, but suddenly a whimper came from the elf. Halted, Aragorn bit at his lip, but knew that he could not leave him.

Quietly, he padded over to the bed, and saw his friend's trouble face crumpled and wrinkled agonisingly. He had to make it better for him. Carefully, he sat down on the bed, making very sure he did not resist the urge to card his fingers through the elf's hair. The strands were like silk between his fingers, and they slipped across his palm like water. It was beautiful, hypnotising. Legolas' tight braids from his temples were still in, a thread of silver twisting through it, and, gently, Aragorn began to tease out the plaits to free all of the hair, and to let it relax. As he leant over the elf to undo the other one, he noticed how the lines of distress had disappeared.

He quickly undid the other one, and then drew back. If Legolas was quiet again, he should probably leave, but then… another groan of complaint when he pulled his hand back. "Hush Legolas," whispered Aragorn; the lines had returned. Aragorn placed his hand back in Legolas' hair, threading through it, stroking, petting… and Legolas calmed back down. Indeed, the only other sound he made was a soft moan of enjoyment once.

By the time Aragorn was sure that Legolas was deep in sleep, the elf had turned towards him, in a snuggled curl to the owner of the touch. Aragorn doubted that, even subconsciously, Legolas knew that it was him, just a source of comfort, but it was enough of an idea to make him smile. He began to feel tired himself, the melancholy taking over. Legolas would not mind, he was sure, so he settled down next to the elf, and went to sleep himself.

000

Legolas was floating blissfully; peaceful, warm and inexplicably feeling protected, safe. Drifting closer and closer to consciousness, that feeling of security increased until, suddenly, he felt a warm body next to him, heard heavy breathing… It was fortunate that everyone else was still at the celebration or they would all have heard the terrified scream that flew from his lips. Legolas jerked his eyes open and onto his attacker. Brown hair, powerful body springing into action at his yell…

Get away! Run! Every molecule inside him was screaming for him to obey, and he did, running to the door. "No, Legolas. It is me, Legolas, you are alright."

That voice! Ai Elbereth, Aragorn. He had frozen, a rabbit caught in candlelight, and a gentle, hesitant hand was placed on his shoulder. He knew it was alright, everything was alright. His reaction had been illogical, foolish. Forcing himself to turn around, he smiled nervously at his friend. "I am sorry, forgive me. I apologise… That was…" Legolas faltered. His friend's eyes were agonizingly sympathetic, and… scared. Not scared of him, scared for him.

Aragorn's hand rubbed gently at his shoulder, his thumb making small circles. "You do not need to explain anything to me. You never have."

Feeling his eyes welling up from the painful understand from Aragorn, Legolas faced away from his friend, avoiding his eyes. He should not have reacted like that, even if Aragorn did not mind. The human accepted the reaction without blinking, without fear, and with understanding. Legolas knew that all Aragorn had been doing was to help him. Even if it did not feel that way sometimes.

"Thank you," Legolas said, struggling, but managing to meet his eyes.

Aragorn frowned cautiously, "For what? I did not do anything. I have not done nearly enough to help you."

"You did everything to get me back to normality. To help me fight for it," Legolas met Aragorn's concerned silver eyes. Then, he cupped Aragorn's chin and brought him in a swift kiss. Their lips only met for a moment, but then, with a soft smile, Legolas left the room.

**A/N: insert witty comment here Review!**


	5. Fine, really

Disclaimer: Sigh, still not mine

**Disclaimer: —Sigh— still not mine. I may have to accept that they are never going to be mine. —Sigh. —**

Aragorn knew he had been sworn to secrecy, though Legolas had never said it, and he did not let a word or suggestion slip about Legolas' rape. The elf was not quite himself: he was tired all the time, and Aragorn suspected that the nightmares were keeping him awake, though he had not asked. Legolas despised the topic and would change it or find some way to stop Aragorn talking to him. Neither had he mentioned the kiss again.

And though the elf seemed to return ever so gradually over the next three weeks, the exhaustion stayed exactly where it was.

Aragorn was lazily reading a book three weeks after the incident, and flicking thoughtfully at the wicker of the chair. Maybe, just maybe, he thought, he should go back out in the Wild. Five weeks in civilisation was enough of a time to recuperate after months in the wild, and maybe getting away from Mirkwood would help Legolas to free himself from the emotional chains of the rape.

He knew that Legolas was in the room, lying on the sofa, reading as well, so asked, "Legolas, why are we still here? There is nothing for us to do, we should go out again to help people."

There was no response, so he looked up from his book, and found the elf sleeping on the couch. He sighed — again? Really? Well if Legolas' brothers and sister came in and found him asleep, they would question it, and that would not please Legolas. So Aragorn moved over to the couch, and crouched down by his friend's head. "Legolas," he called softly, "You are asleep. Time to wake up."

"No, it is not," Legolas stated. "It is not time to wake up, you are just a nightmare. Now go away."

Chuckling, Aragorn said, "I am going nowhere, mellon nin. We need to discuss . . . when we are leaving."

"I just said that you could leave at any time you wanted," Legolas growled, forcing his eyes to meet Aragorn's.

"There is no need to be moody, Legolas," Aragorn said, frowning down at him severely. When no reaction or apology was forthcoming, he continued, "Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to go back out into the Wild. It is spring, plenty for us to do."

Legolas just rolled over onto his side, but Aragorn could have sworn he saw a shiver run through him. "No thank you. I want to stay here for a while longer."

With a sigh, Aragorn said, "Alright then, it was just a suggestion. Getting away from this place could be good for you."

"You do not know what is good for me," snapped Legolas.

"Then I shall grant your request and leave you to your thoughts," said Aragorn, coldly, and he stood to leave, but there was a knock on the door before he could even reach it. He pulled it open, and there stood a crowd of elves. Aragorn turned over his shoulder, and called back, "Legolas, we have company. Lots of company."

"Tell them to go away. I don't want company," Legolas replied.

In front of him, Caradlas raised his eyebrows, "Are you going to send us on our way then, Master Aragorn?"

"No. As far as I recall, this is your family's lounge. You have more right to it than I." Aragorn smiled. "Come on in." Nine elves filed past him and into the lounge.

When Aragorn shut the door on the nine of them, he noticed that Legolas was taking up a whole sofa, which had three seats, and he met Luinlas' eyes with a playful grin. In unison, both Luinlas and Aragorn dropped down on top of Legolas, Aragorn on his back and Luinlas on his legs. The breath left Legolas' lungs in a whoosh and a sharp cry, and Aragorn and Luinlas stood up again.

As Legolas tucked himself into the corner of the couch, the laughing Aragorn and Luinlas took a seat each. Cautiously, Aragorn scanned Legolas' face and found that his bright blue eyes were watering. "Are you alright?" Aragorn hastily murmured, as beside him Luinlas' partner Saryena, took a seat at Luinlas' feet.

"No, that actually hurt," Legolas said, wrapping his arms around his stomach as he brought his knees up to his chin.

"Forgive me," Aragorn whispered. "We did not intend to hurt you."

But Luinlas just rolled her eyes. "Stop being a child, baby brother."

Angrily protesting, Legolas said, "I am not being a child. It actually hurt. I am not made of steel."

"Yet often you would have us believe otherwise," Caradlas interrupted with the authoritative air of the older sibling. "Settle down now, Legolas. This is not about you, this is about Baranlas."

Aragorn scanned the gathered elves. Apart from Legolas on one side, Luinlas on the other, with Saryena's head in her lap, there were two other sofas full of occupants. Caradlas, his wife Kitylla, Baranlas and Baranlas' partner Gostern shared one, Baranlas curled up against him, and on the other sofa sat Thranduil and Baranlas' mother and father. What was this about?

Already there were bottles of wine on the table. "What are you celebrating?" asked Aragorn, glancing around the faces, and Baranlas and Gostern's were the most blissful, as the two men twined together, cat like. The parents, the wine . . . it all made sense all of a sudden. "Congratulations, my friend!" he exclaimed.

Baranlas, whose mouth had been opened, poised to explain, grinned, "So the human is not as dense as he seems."

"I seem to be though," muttered Legolas. "What do you mean?"

Unable to resist hitting the elf over the head — it was not often he was more observant than the elf — Aragorn said, "They are engaged."

"Oh," was all Legolas could say, eyes widening, and Aragorn elbowed him in the ribs. It was not the most enthusiastic response.

"Are you still asleep, Legolas?" asked the petite Luinlas. "Were you up late with a secret lover you have not told us about?"

Horrified, sitting next to the other parents, Thranduil gasped, "Luinlas, you are a princess! Show some dignity, do not be so obscene."

"Sorry father," mumbled Luinlas.

But her partner tilted her head back, and said, "I do not mind if you are obscene."

"Good." Luinlas bent down to plant a kiss on her lips.

Aragorn looked around at each of the couples in the room: Caradlas and Kitylla, reserved and calm, Baranlas and Gostern, soft and sweet, Luinlas and Saryena, fiery and passionate.

And eventually, he heard the words he had been dreading, "When are you and Legolas going to fall in love then?" Came Baranlas' voice. "You are both very attractive men — ow Gostern, do not hit me and pretend you have not noticed — surely you have admirers."

Quietly, Aragorn snorted, and scoffed, "When I enter a village the men and women see a dirty, unshaven, weather-stained man of questionable repute. Not something that attracts many prospects."

"The rugged look can be very attractive," Gostern pointed out.

"We got betrothed less than an hour ago, would you please stop throwing yourself at all the attractive males in the castle?" Baranlas sighed, exasperated, and then, when they had finished "making up" added, "I would ask Legolas about his potential suitors, of whom there have been many over the years, but it appears we have bored him.

Aragorn glanced down, and found the weight against his shoulder to be Legolas' head. The elf was asleep. His mind raced frantically, until he came up with an excuse, "We were up late last night, thinking about whether or not we should seek out the Dúnedain camps." When Luinlas made an outraged noise, Aragorn held up his hands, and added, "No decision was reached. We were just . . . pondering."

Luinlas studied his expression of absolute honesty, and then reclined back in her chair, "Well, I suppose at some point it was inevitable."

"I will repeat that we are undecided as of yet," Aragorn said, calmly, "And we will consider further later on, preferably when Legolas is awake."

Across the table, Gostern had moved on to a different topic, involved in a conversation with Thranduil and his parents.

"We have something in common," Thranduil was saying, "Your parents and I; we all want grandchildren. Are you planning on giving us any?"

Gostern looked uncertainly up at Baranlas, and said, "I honestly do not know. We have not discussed it, but if he wants a child I will give him one." They met each other's lips in what was about the thirtieth kiss of the afternoon.

The others groaned, but Aragorn curiously asked, "Do you mean to tell me that male elves can get pregnant as well as the females of the race?"

"Yes," Baranlas replied, breaking away from Gostern's lips. "You lived in Imladris for two decades, surely you had come across this? It may be rare, but it is not _that_ rare."

"No Baranlas, you are forgetting the Rivendell tradition," Gostern interrupted. "Because every elvish pregnancy is at a very high risk, very unstable, there have been bad experiences with them, so the moment the mother or carrier begins to show, they go into seclusion until the child is born . . . or otherwise. Aragorn probably has never seen a pregnant elf. Male or female."

"No, I never have."

000

"Legolas, wake up." Oh those dreaded words. He just was so tired all the time, and it was stupid, ridiculous, idiotic, foolish. And yet, he swum back to consciousness, and to Aragorn's silver eyes floating above him. When he glanced around, he found himself in the family lounge, and his eyes latched onto the wine glasses. The celebration! He had fallen asleep.

Anger swept through him. "You let me sleep. Why?" Legolas exclaimed, to the shock of Aragorn judging by his expression. "I must have looked like a fool, in front of my father and my siblings." He remembered part of the earlier conversation with a jolt. "They think I am sleeping with someone and that is what kept me awake!"

"No, no," Aragorn hurriedly said, his low voice soft as if to soothe. "I made an excuse, said that we were up late talking to each other. Everything is under control."

It did soothe him to a degree, and Legolas flopped back down onto the couch. Massaging his eyes, he asked, "What did I miss whilst I was asleep?"

"We toasted Baranlas and Gostern a few more times, and after that they spoke about wedding plans — though all they have so far is that they are getting married — and ate dinner here. We saved you some." Aragorn pointed to the plates gathered on the table. He was so earnest that it was endearing, but at the same time it was beginning to get a tiny bit irritating as well.

Legolas took one look at the food, and a faint cloud of nausea crept over him. "No thank you. No food. Food is a very bad idea."

Frowning, Aragorn said, "I happen to think food is a very good idea. You have not been eating enough recently, I have noticed."

The irritation returned, and Legolas bit out, "I shall eat as much as I want, when I want it. Right now, I want none, ever." He rubbed at his stomach slowly, hoping that the heat from his hand would calm his churning insides. "Now if you excuse me." Taking highly controlled steps, Legolas left the room at a moderate pace, but when the door shut his feet picked up.

He only just made it to the bathroom in time.

000

For the next week, Legolas became a recluse. Aragorn barely saw him, and was sure that he spent most of his time in bed. He declined all of his meals, Aragorn knew because he was the one who offered the meals each time.

But eventually . . . he got fed up with the constant irritation Legolas had with him. He had made up his mind on what to do. All he had left to decide was how to tell Legolas, and then he would be away, free from the anger, the avoidance and the arguments. He cared for Legolas, more than anyone else, Elbereth knew that it was true, but if they carried on like they were, happiness would not occur.

He knew for a fact that the other members of Legolas' family shared the concerns. Legolas would not let them into his room, only Aragorn had managed to force his way in, and so Caradlas, Baranlas and Luinlas each in turn approached Aragorn to ask about their brother. It had to end; he could not make excuses for him forever.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door.

000

The demanding tap on his door roused Legolas from his sleep. He cursed. It was morning, he knew, but why would that mean he was awake? Groaning, he massaged his eyes and slipped out of his bed. He was wearing britches, which in his opinion was enough, and so pulled the door open.

Aragorn stood there, nervously chewing his lip, and Legolas sighed. What did he want to force him to eat now? What did he want him to do? Yet they were not arguing out in the hallways, so Legolas stepped inside and waved the human into the room. Aragorn's eyes were fixed on his naked chest, and Legolas wrapped his arms around it.

"What is it? Is there a problem with my torso?" Legolas demanded, as Aragorn shut the door.

"No," Aragorn said, perhaps a little too swiftly. Stammering a little, he continued, "It is just . . . you look awful. Your ribs are showing, your stomach is sunken. You are starving yourself."

Turning away, Legolas swung a robe around his shoulders, and hid his torso. "I just do not want to eat anything at this moment."

Behind him, Aragorn heaved a sigh, and said, "I was going to tell you that I was leaving, but seeing you like this. . . ."

Whirling around, his temper that had been at his call so constantly rose. "What? Where were you going and why do think I need you here? I am fine."

"Firstly, I was going away because we have been arguing too much and space is what I need, space away from you, but it is clear that you need . . . something. Other than at least five meals a day, every day, for the next month!" exclaimed Aragorn, in a tone of voice that was not exactly friendly. It was angry. "You are not looking after yourself."

"I am fine," insisted Legolas, but he knew that he was not. He was suddenly feeling very dizzy, and black spots appeared in front of his eyes, creeping up on his vision. Swaying ever so slightly, he said, "You ought to leave, if you think that is best. If you think abandoning me is going to save everything."

Aragorn visibly recoiled, "That is not what I mean at all. I just mean. . . ." The human's voice started to fade, a constant buzzing in Legolas' ears drowning it out. And then it all went black.

000

Thranduil was sat in his study, working, when a footman hurtled in. Without raising his eyes from his work, Thranduil sighed. "What is so urgent that you can not have a little grace when you enter a room?"

"My Lord," the blushing footman said, "I have been sent by the Head Healer to alert you. Your son is ill, having collapsed in his room. He is conscious now but you may want to go see him."

Darting out of his chair, Thranduil rapidly asked, "Which of my sons is it? Which?"

Hesitatingly, the footman said, "I am sorry but I do not know. I was just told 'the Prince,' I am afraid, my Lord."

Silently, Thranduil confessed _I am scared too_, but he could not say that out loud to someone who he did not know, and even if he did know them, it was still doubtful he could admit to fear.

The footman trotted through the hallways, leading him to the Healing Wing, where he was replaced by a Healer, who opened the door to a small room. Looking small under the sheets, Legolas lay in bed, and Aragorn perched next to him. Their hands were laced together.

Tentative, Thranduil shut the door, and asked, "What is going on Legolas? How are you? The footman said you collapsed."

Gazing down at his lap, where his and Aragorn's hands were linked, and Aragorn's thumb was rubbing across his knuckles, Legolas said, "You may want to sit down, Atar. The doctors examined me, and . . . I have some news for you."

Warily, Thranduil said, "Whatever you have to tell me, you can tell me as I stand."

With a groan, Legolas met his eyes and gave his confession. "I am pregnant."

Shock made Thranduil freeze, until, teeth gritted, Thranduil managed to ask, "Whose? Whose child?"

Legolas and Aragorn met each other's eyes and, when Legolas gave a small nod, barely perceptible, Aragorn said, "It is mine, Lord Thranduil."

"Yours?" Thranduil repeated.

"Yes," Aragorn shifted closer to place a protective hand on Legolas' stomach and stroked gently. "Please forgive us for not telling you of our relationship, but we were not sure whether we were . . . in love, or just very close friends. We have just been . . . experimenting, and then this happened, and. . . ."

Thranduil hurriedly said, "I do not want to know. But do you love him? Will you care for him?"

"Always," murmured Aragorn, and then added, "To both questions."

As he pressed at his eyes, Thranduil sighed, "Very well. I . . . need some time to process this, ion nin. I never expected . . . this." He had to get out of the room, into the serenity of the woods, to clear his head. "Forgive me, but congratulations."

000

Legolas watched his father flee from the room, and then turned to hold Aragorn tightly, bury his face in his shoulder. He knew that he would not mind, and he just really needed to hold someone. In his ear, Aragorn chuckled. "Do you think we scared him away?"

"Just a little bit," Legolas sighed, heavily. "But he believed us."

"Now we just have to keep this charade up," Aragorn muttered, "But somehow I do not think that it will be so difficult to pretend I love you."

Legolas was not paying attention to him though. His hands were over his stomach, where under the skin, the bastard Tylin's child was curled. He did not know what to do.

**A/N: This is where I take over with my ideas —Feral grin—**


	6. Poison

Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit

**Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit.**

Legolas watched the swelling and deflating chest of his 'lover' as he slept. He was so in debt to that human now, and wondered how much Aragorn expected of him, how he could give things back. Could he ever? And this child inside him… barely the size of a nut and yet causing so much trouble. The thought of Tylin's child inside him made him feel physically sick, but it was nothing to do with the morning sickness that plagued him.

The child was a demon; Legolas felt nothing but revulsion and hatred for it. It was sucking the energy out of him; his traitorous body was feeding it, keeping it alive. His blood was flowing through him into it; he was bonded to it and… It was the worst he had ever felt, and he thought that he should normally have enjoyed Aragorn's warm body next to his.

He was consigned to his bed, restrained there unless he needed the bathroom. The Healers and his siblings were waiting until Legolas had recovered some strength and some health before he could get back up. But it was boring, and the only thing that occupied his thoughts was the child festering inside him. Quietly, not wanting to wake Aragorn, he thumped his fist into his stomach.

"Why will you not go?" he hissed. "Why are you here? Why are you inside me? You are not wanted. Just leave." Again and again, he beat his fists into the flesh, wincing when it hurt, but really not caring. If it could hurt him then it could very well hurt the child. It could die like its father. Because Legolas was not a father, he was… a host, the child a parasite.

He kept on punching his belly until Aragorn twisted and gave a moan in his sleep. The human nestled up against Legolas' side, unconsciously, so that he could benefit from the elf's touch. It could not be the warmth of his body, Legolas was sure. He was cold, freezing cold, and it was Aragorn that was warming him.

Softening just a little, Legolas wrapped an arm around the young human. He was young, far too young to be pretending to be shouldering the responsibility of a fatherhood they had not asked for. They both were. Legolas planted a kiss on Aragorn's soft curls. "Thank you, thank you so much for protecting my secrets and… caring for me and…"

"You are welcome," murmured Aragorn, opening his silver eyes. They were cloudy with sleep, so Legolas knew that he was only just awake.

"I am sorry; I did not mean to wake you," Legolas whispered back. "It means that you will leave the bed and stop being my hot water bottle and my amusement and my keeper of secrets and my carer."

Aragorn rolled his eyes and said, "Do stop talking Legolas. I am not going to be going anywhere; I am feeling far too lazy to do that." His arm snaked around Legolas' shoulders and he rested his head against the elf's chest. "And I have absolutely no problem being your person of every trade. Particularly not if I get to cuddle like this for as long as I like." Aragorn's free hand began to circle on Legolas' stomach.

Faking a heavy sigh, made easier by the uncomfortable feeling he was suffering from with Aragorn stroking his bare stomach, Legolas replied, "I suppose I will have to put up with it then." He knew right then, in a flash of insight, that both of them loved each other, even if neither of them wanted to be the one to admit it. But he managed to force out the words. "Why did you agree to pretend to be my lover?"

"Why?" Aragorn warily asked, the hand pausing. "Would you have preferred letting your father know that you were raped?" Legolas glared at the human but, only being able to see the back of his head, he had very little effect. Before he could mutter in the negative, Aragorn said, "Because I care for you, more than anyone else that I ever have known."

That was more than he had expected, and nearer to 'I love you' than he had dared to hope for. Smiling, he closed his eyes and just enjoyed the feeling of Aragorn's skin against his. That was something to pleasant about.

000

Aragorn was humming almost, almost cheerfully as he walked along the hallway, balancing the tray very carefully in his hands. His hand was on the doorknob when there was a shout behind him.

"Aragorn, how is my brother?" It was Luinlas, looking ever so slightly flushed, as if she had run towards him. "I knocked earlier and he came to the door, but he did not let me in. He just told me to leave him alone, and then shut the door in my face!" Her eyes filled up with tears, making the blue even more reminiscent of the sea. "He is alright, really? I know he is pregnant, Atar told me, and I know he is not feeling well, but is he alright in himself?"

About to confess, Aragorn suddenly bit his lip and grinned. "He is fine in himself really, just slightly shocked about the news still. But we are both really pleased about the pregnancy and excited about having a child and, although Legolas is nervous and feeling slightly unwell from the morning sickness and the weakness that comes with the pregnancy, he wants to get out and be busy." He had practiced these lines, knowing that he would have to if he wanted to sound even slightly convincing.

With a relieved smile, Luinlas announced, "I am glad. Tell him that I will be trying to ask Atar to let him out soon. I promise."

"Thank you," said Aragorn. "I know that he will appreciate that."

Sniggering, Luinlas asked, "Is he being difficult? I can not help feeling that he will hate being stuck in there for so long."

Aragorn sighed, "A little, but it is alright." He nodded towards the door. "I should go in. He will be waiting. And Legolas does not like being kept waiting."

"So true." Luinlas rolled her eyes but nodded to him once and walked away.

Aragorn went into the next room, but did not find Legolas in bed as he had expected. "Legolas, why are you getting dressed?" he demanded, setting the tray down with an almost angry thud. "You heard your Atar and you heard the Healers – you will damage the child and you will damage yourself if you do not rest. Bed rest means in the bed."

Violently, Legolas whirled around with his hands on his hips. "I am not staying in bed, I am going outside. If anything, the outside will be better for me than staying inside these stone walls. For all their beauty and their protection, I want the earth under my feet, the trees and sky above me, the bushes brushing against my hands. Do not try and stop me."

"I will not try and stop you, I will stop you. You do not know how little you weigh, as an elf, and I believe I am stronger than you." He glared at the elf furiously, and, ever so slightly, Legolas wavered. "Go back to bed Legolas, I do not mind staying here and I will if you want me to. So sit back on those pillows and eat the lunch I found for you."

Legolas wrinkled his nose, but reluctantly slipped back into the bed. "What must I eat?"

Breathing heavily, hating that he had just had to, literally, order Legolas, Aragorn gently told him, "You must not eat anything, but I wish that you would. I brought white bread, and it is not buttered because I know you hated that, and neither is it warm so it will not smell as much. There is fruit and there is jam and there are also sweet meats, but I was not sure about that. Therefore, I will eat what you leave."

"Does that not mean that I should eat less?" asked Legolas, as Aragorn placed the loaded tray over his blanketed legs. "I do not want you to starve if I am greedy."

"Legolas, truly, there is enough on that ray to feed four. And I know that the amount may put you off, I thought about that already, but it does no matter. Just try and eat as much as you possibly can." Aragorn summoned his pleading eyes, and Legolas sighed, but reluctantly he conceded to nibble on the bread, and Aragorn had tot resist the urge to watch him eat each mouthful. He knew it would only put the elf off his already meagre meal. Instead he decided to bury his head in the elf's shoulder; he did not mind in the slightest staying with Legolas, or pretending to be his lover. It meant he could curl up against the elf's side without any interruption or any questions.

"Are you tired?" asked Legolas, after a long moment of him eating.

"Only a little," Aragorn was not willing to admit that Legolas' restless sleep had kept him awake.

"Go and sleep. Or stay and sleep," Legolas murmured.

Rolling his eyes, Aragorn said, "I am supposed to be taking care of you. Not the other way round."

"And I am going to take a bath," Legolas told him, pushing the tray away from him.

"Enjoy," replied Aragorn, biting his lip to prevent himself from admonishing the elf for not eating enough. It would only make things worse. It seemed that everything made things worse.

000

Submerged in the water, Legolas glared at the wooden duck that the servant had amusingly placed floating across the clear liquid. It did not amuse him, but it would amuse a child. He knew that now, after the split second decision to pretend that Aragorn was the other father, he would have to keep the child and raise it. Not that he could have aborted anyway, as a Prince, everyone would have known… The thoughts kept racing around his head, over and over, plaguing him at ever moment.

Stupid decisions; feeling sorry for someone who needed a friend, only to have it lead to this disaster. A disaster that could kill him. It was… terrifying, and he did not want to die. He wanted it to die instead, and there were so many ways he could do that. If he managed to get outside he could find herbs, he knew where they were, what they were, and how to abort the child. Poison would flood his system, and destroy the child's delicate form. It would make him feel ill, and he had heard that it might hurt, but not as much as labour, and it would not hurt his heart as much as having to raise a monster's child.

He soaped himself and then picked up the sponge. Roughly, he scrubbed himself down, ridding himself of the dirt outside even if he could not rid himself of the filth inside him just yet. His skin was red and raw when he stood up, water sluicing off his still thin form. If he could help it, and it was likely that he could, he would stay thin. He wrapped himself in his towel, warming and drying himself, before he returned to the bedroom.

Aragorn was asleep.

Silently, Legolas crept to the cupboard and pulled open the door. The rustling of the clothes as he pulled them on made him wince, but Aragorn did not move. His hand was on the door handle when a mutter came from the bed.

"Do not dare Legolas Thranduillion," snarled Aragorn. Legolas glanced over to look at him, but the human's eyes were closed. "Get back over here."

Grumbling to himself, Legolas obeyed and sat back on the bed. "I was going for a walk."

"You are going to lie down next to me so that I can go back to sleep," Aragorn growled. "And keep your wet hair away from me. You should tie it up anyway; it is going to make you cold. That will not be good for the baby."

Legolas left it down.

000

Aragorn was there constantly, never letting Legolas escape. Wrapping his arms around his rumbling stomach, Legolas thought about the only things that he could do that might, just might, allow him to be free. The things that Aragorn might just allow, or might not notice him taking. He drank as much as he could, smoked as much pipeweed as he could… but each time he got his things confiscated.

Only, eventually, Aragorn had to sleep properly, not just doze. On the third day of Legolas' confinement, Aragorn finally allowed himself to sleep; almost sure that Legolas would stay.

"Ah, the blessed fool," sighed Legolas under his breath, as he snuck down the hallway. He kept an eye out for his family, but the hallways were bare. It was late at night, and there was therefore little need to be hiding. The others would all be in bed, a place that Legolas desired to be very much, had he not needed to get outside.

He crept through the secret door out into the cool night air. For a long moment, he just stood letting the breeze wash over him, letting his gaze lift upwards to the stars, bright white in the dark navy sky. Their light was calming, familiar, and oh so beautiful. At once, his discomfort and pain faded away under their glow. His head spun with the sudden feeling of emptiness he had, and a hot buzzing took over his skin. For a moment he thought that he was going to be ill, but then he slid to the floor, burying his head between his legs.

The blood rushed to his head, and, rubbing his stomach, his body returned to normal. Sucking in a lungful of oxygen, he forced himself upright and began to walk. The glade he knew of which held the belladonna he required was deep in the forest, down winding, traitorous paths, but he knew the way. He would find it.

Though his head continued to swirl, he walked onwards, hugging himself. The cool breeze which had soothed him a moment before was now bitterly cold, freezing him. Although low temperatures would damage the child, something he was obviously eager to happen, it did not mean that he liked the cold. Often it did not affect him, but now… he was fighting to keep away the shivers. When he wiped a hand across his eyes, trying to clear this head from the noise in his ears, he found a sheen of sweat on his forehead. That was not right.

Soon each step was a stagger, each breath was a gasp, and in every shadow he saw Tylin peering at him from the darkness. There behind that tree, there concealed in the dense clump of bracken, there… Belladonna.

He did not know how long he had been walking, but it seemed an age. Slowly, he lowered himself to the ground. He just needed to sit, for a moment, recover his breath before moving on. Trying not to close his eyes, he plucked a plant from the ground and secured it in his pouch. Had he the energy, he would have studied each crisp leaf, each delicate stalk, each fruit bursting with deadly liquid. But he did not have the strength. He would sit. Just for a moment.

000

Aragorn gave a groan and shivered. Why was this building always so cold? Why did they build it in the middle of a cave? He reached out to pull Legolas against him, make him warm again, but there was no one there. Sitting upwards, he glanced around, his eyes sticky with sleep, and found no one there. Under his breath, he growled, "Legolas!" but there was no response.

A moment later there was a knock on the door. Baranlas burst in, without invitation. "Legolas was found in the forest. He was unconscious. Again." Aragorn could see in his eyes the accusation. How had he let Legolas do this?

**A/N: Done. No more can I write. Yet. Review.**


	7. Loss

Discalimer: Sorta glad I don't own them, I mean… the way those two behave sometimes

**Disclaimer: Sorta glad I don't own them, I mean… the way those two behave sometimes.**

Legolas drowsily opened his eyes to find Aragorn gazing down at him, a furious expression on his face. "How could you do that? How could you just disregard any sensible course of action? And why? Why were you trying to destroy yourself? They found belladonna in your bag," the human raged viciously.

Raising his hand to his pounding head, Legolas gasped, "Please Aragorn, my head… lower your voice?"

"No, no I do not care right now if you are hurting, because you brought it down upon yourself," snarled Aragorn, grabbing Legolas' arm so that he could draw it away from his face. "And your child. There is a baby, an infant inside you and it deserves its chance of life, even if you feel yours is broken."

The pain became too much for Legolas, he was only just conscious, and the elf physically turned away, trying to break Aragorn's grip. "You are hurting me Aragorn. Let go of me and stop yelling," he begged in a moan through clenched teeth.

Suddenly, Aragorn realised what was being said, and released him. "I am sorry, forgive me."

Legolas groaned, "Of course." And he lay in silence as Aragorn summoned a Healer to examine him. Legolas answered the questions bleakly and eagerly gulped down the herbal drink he was offered. Aragorn waited until Legolas lay back against the pillow with a soft sigh before speaking again, this time in a much quieter tone.

"I am sorry, but I have to say these things to you mellon nin," Aragorn said, gently taking Legolas' hand. "You have to listen to someone, and I am the only one who knows what has been done to you." He gulped at the twisting of Legolas' expression, but continued, "That baby inside your stomach, she or he has never done anything wrong, he or she did not give you those symptoms on purpose. The baby has no malicious thought or intent, children do not, that is why children are so often used as pictures of innocence."

"Not this one," muttered Legolas, his arms wrapping around his stomach and squeezing tightly, not to protect but to destroy.

"Stop that," Aragorn growled, pulling the hands away and securing each wrist within one of his own hands again. "Yes the baby is half Tylin, but he or she is half of you as well. Focus on that half, nurture that one so it grows and swells and takes over the other until it is more Legolas than Tylin. Love that part."

Legolas' lips pressed together for a moment, but he eventually said, "I do not know if I can."

Furiously Aragorn said, "This child is not his father, but its own person. Who knows what he or she could do if given the chance to live in a loving home? Do you not think it deserves a chance at all?"

"No."

At that moment, Thranduil entered the room, glaring at his son in a manner as irritated as Aragorn had been quarter of an hour before. "Why is it that the only times I see my youngest son is when he is unconscious or in a hospital bed?" he demanded.

Legolas shot a glance at Aragorn, and the human obediently left the room. "Sorry, Atar, I apologise. I just wanted to get out. That room is so confining, I needed to get outside."

With a heavy exhale, Thranduil sat on the edge of the bed and said, "Aragorn is the only one who can restrain you, I can not being away from you for so long and I can not ask your siblings to baby sit you. From what I hear you only managed to leave when he was asleep. And, as your father, and as he is the father of your child…" With an intense feeling of dread, Legolas heard the coming words echo in his head; he knew exactly what his father wanted from him. "I want you to marry that human."

Biting his lip so hard that it split, spilling blood into his mouth, Legolas managed to stutter, "Alright, Atar, I will propose."

A frown creased the older elf's forehead, and he said, "You must have hit your head quite hard ion nin; surely you remember Aragorn proposing to you? He told me about it whilst you were unconscious."

"Oh sorry, yes of course," Legolas shook his head, inadvertently making it thump even more painfully. "Yes I was planning on saying yes. You may make an announcement to the kingdom about that and the pregnancy tomorrow if you wish."

After a long conversation of small talk, Aragorn swapped places with the Elven King; Thranduil having to head back to his work. "I suppose you will be the one in a dress Aragorn? Because I will be the dominant one in this relationship."

"Oh but I think you will find that I was the one who impregnated you, according to the outside world at least. Therefore, you are the submissive one Legolas Thranduillion," Aragorn said with a smug grin. "But there is a catch to my proposal. I will marry you, continue to weave this lie, if you try to love your child and… if you try and love me." He gazed down at his lap, making sure he did not meet Legolas' eyes. "Because you do not love me now, but I am in love with you. It is the one thing I have never told you."

"I know," Legolas murmured, reaching out to grasp Aragorn's shirt and tugging him down to the bed. The human found himself sitting on the elf's lap and being pulled towards him. "Because I am in love with you too." Ever so tentatively, he pressed a kiss to Aragorn's lips. It was little more than a tender touch, far too brief, but when he drew away their lips tingled with feeling. The lingering sensation made them both hungry for more. "We will make this work," Legolas vowed. "And I will try with the child."

"That is all I ask," smiled Aragorn.

000

Later that day, Legolas was allowed to move from the Healing Wing back into the security of his bedroom, with guards placed outside for his 'protection'. Despite his desire for freedom, it felt good to feel safe in his own quarters once more.

As Legolas sat in bed, cocooned in thick blankets, Aragorn critically surveyed the Prince's bedroom. "I suppose I will be moving in here then? You really ought to do something with this room."

"What do you mean?" exclaimed Legolas, taken aback. "It is a perfectly good bedroom, not least because it has a bed large enough for the both of us. It has a bookcase and a wardrobe and mirrors and paintings and everything you could wish for."

"But no life," whispered Aragorn, passion making his voice rough. "It needs life to make you well Legolas, or you and the baby will not recover. You are a wood elf for Valar's sake."

Pursing his lips, Legolas asked, "What is it then that you suggest?"

"I will be back soon," Aragorn said, before leaving the room at a run.

000

Though his eyes were closed as per his instructions, Legolas could smell the heady scent of flowers. He frowned, trying to calculate what flowers Aragorn was bringing into his bedroom.

"Alright," Aragorn said, at last taking a seat on the bed next to the elf, after several trips in and out of the room. Legolas wrapped an arm around the human's waist, securing Aragorn in place. They had not spoken about the revelation from earlier in the morning, not until Legolas was feeling a little bit better, according to Aragorn. "You can open your eyes again."

Legolas' eyes were drawn to the five vases of pure white roses, calla lilies and gardenias. Each one was white as freshly fallen snow, and the scent that filled the room was intoxicating him. He closed his eyes again to receive the full scent, and sighed. The room seemed to light up with the glow that they gave off. "They are beautiful, thank you."

"Welcome," smiled Aragorn. Legolas had to resist the urge to stand up and reach out and touch the petals, feel the life flowing through them into him. He had to blink twice to clear his mind, and to forget about that. It almost killed him to admit it, but maybe, just maybe, Aragorn was right. There was a child inside him, despite the fact that it was Tylin's, it had never tried to harm him. And yet… every time he thought of the child, and if he ever looked at it, it would remind him of Tylin. It would remind him of that awful invasion, that terrible pain…

And he did not want a child, he wanted to run, he wanted to be free and to work for others who needed help and to find independence and… he could not tie Aragorn down. The young human had a mission, had a purpose in his life, and a child would ruin everything for him and for the rest of middle earth. Could he sacrifice one child's promise for the rest of their world? Yes. How could he even think that it was a question?

He should not have lied, however much it terrified him to admit what had happened to his family, to confess that he had been dominated and tormented and… raped. That word was almost as terrifying as the act, it was harsh, bitter… He wrapped his free arm around his stomach, and fought away the tears of desperation and hopelessness; he needed to keep Aragorn from knowing how terrified he really was. He had been stupid in trying to cover up the consequences, foolish, and he was taking Aragorn, his dearest Aragorn, down along with him.

Taking a deep breath, bringing in cool air to his lungs, he said, "Aragorn, would you do something to help me, please?"

"Of course, anything," Aragorn said, sitting up. The eagerness to please was almost painful.

"Will you fetch my father for me? I need to speak to him," Legolas told him, forcing a smile onto his face as he withdrew his arm from around the human.

"Yes, I will be as quick as I can," said Aragorn, leaping off the bed to his feet. He trotted out of the room, and the moment the door closed, Legolas let out a long breath of relief. On his own, he could allow a single tear to dribble down his cheek, and pull himself to his feet. He needed his head to clear, he needed it to stop spinning and he needed to find another way to get rid of the troublesome child. It was even more painful to think of it now that Aragorn had spoken about it being… real. A real, living being.

He found himself at the sill which held the flowers, and he bowed his head down into the petals. The soft petals brushed against his cheeks, caressing him almost, and the scent surrounded him, intoxicating. His head swum with the aroma, and, his hands still around the cool glass of the vase, he pulled back to receive fresher air. But the black spots which had appeared before his eyes did not disappear. Pain shot through his abdomen, almost crippling him as his arms shot from behind the glass vase around his stomach.

Legolas leapt backwards as the movement of his hands from vase to stomach toppled the glass vase, and it crashed to the floor. His eyes were drawn to the shattered shards, as water pooled around them and the flowers lay there, fallen. Pain rocketing through him brought him out of the daze, and he tripped backwards from the glass, trying to stifle cries as the agony shot through him, again and again. Legolas found his legs giving out and he was on his knees in the clear water. Suddenly, there was a gushing feeling between his legs, and scarlet liquid joined the water.

It took a long moment, arched over in pain, for Legolas to realise that it was blood streaming from him. He tried to get to his feet, pushing himself up, but his arms gave out as he tried. There was a sickening, tearing sensation in his belly, but then, as his head rolled, arms were wrapped under his arms, and pulled him carefully to his feet. "Aragorn," he gasped, as the human's scent shrouded him. His eyes latched onto the white flowers, shattered glass and scarlet blood, as Aragorn held him close.

"You are alright Legolas, you are alright. I have you," Aragorn murmured to him, as the human's arms crooked under his legs, lifting him up. "Do not cry, your Atar is here," Aragorn told him, and Legolas felt air stream past him as the human's sped up.

"I am not crying," muttered Legolas in a moan, turning his head towards the warmth of the human's shoulder, but he found tears on his face. It hurt, damnation, it hurt too much. He knew already that it was too late for the child, but he just wanted the pain to stop. Knowing very well that miscarriage could kill him just as easily as labour, Legolas tried not to let the terror take over him. His whole self was crying out Why? Why should he have to die because of some insane human?

"You will not die," growled out Thranduil's voice, and Legolas realised that he had said the words out loud. "We are almost there, and you will be well."

000

Aragorn was running as fast as he possibly he could, the walls and floor flashing past him, and startling the elves around them. He had visited it too many times in the last few days, he knew the way. Glancing down at the shockingly pale elf in his arms, he saw the blue eyes roll back in his sockets, revealing the whites of his eyes.

A low guttural groan escaped the elf's parted lips, as Aragorn skidded into the Healing Wing and Healers reached out their arms for their unconscious Prince. Immediately, Aragorn's arms tightened around the slender form in his arms, but then Thranduil's hand was wrapped around Legolas' arm.

Their eyes met and the Elven King, in the gentlest voice Aragorn had heard him use, Thranduil instructed, "Give him to them. They will save both of them." There was still a steely tone in his voice, and Aragorn knew why he was the King. There was no question of refusing his order, even if it was said gently. He let the Healers take Legolas.

000

It was the longest wait. The longest. Every now and again Aragorn would raise his eyes and scan the waiting room. Thranduil paced the room, his feet clicking on the floor, and Caradlas gazed up at him constantly, just watching his father walk, whereas Luinlas kept her eyes fixed to the floor, not once looking up. Every so often, there would be a soft drop onto the marble floor, as a tear fell from her eye to the floor. Baranlas was there as well, but he was asleep, curled up against Gostern.

Sometimes, Aragorn was almost overwhelmed by the urge to explain and to apologise. He had never meant for that to happen; never wanted it, never expected it, never. He thought he had convinced the elf to look after himself.

Without warning, seemingly hours into the wait, Thranduil spoke, breaking the oppressive silence. "Why did he call you insane?" Next to Aragorn, Baranlas started awake, and made a confused, questioning noise, but Gostern, seeing Thranduil's gaze fixing on Aragorn, hushed him and pulled him back. Slowly, Aragorn raised his head from where it had been resting on his hands, and met the Elven King's eyes.

"What do you mean?" asked Aragorn, and was surprised at how toneless his own voice sounded. His emotions were in turmoil, yet his voice sounded so… bleak. "When did he say that and why would he say that? Legolas loves me."

"Then why did he call you insane?" snarled Thranduil. "What other human could possibly be putting him in a situation where he thought he would die? You gave him that child and now he thinks it is killing him!"

Aragorn sighed; he had known that the lies and secrets could not continue forever. Legolas had wanted to deny it, but Aragorn knew that were it not for that blessed elf's stubbornness, the truth would have come out already. It was not about the difficulty admitting it to his family, it was more about Legolas admitting it to himself. "You really want to know the truth?" Aragorn forced himself to ask.

Exasperated, Thranduil said, "Of course," but Luinlas spoke over him.

"Why do I think that the answer is no? Why was it that Legolas had that fear in his eyes whenever I glimpsed him? That… I do not even know how to describe his expression. Fear, disgust… did he ever want that child? And he gazed at you with love, so many times, anyone could see that. That was why it was so believable and yet… it was unrequited, and it is clearly an unconsummated love. I can see that." Her rose mouth moved lightening quick, framing every word as fast as she could, and she tossed her hair as she spoke. "You have never made love to him have you?"

Thranduil had let her speak up to this point, but at that he could not keep quiet. "Think of what you are saying Luinlas, please. You are speaking nonsense. How else would Legolas be pregnant?" Suddenly, his face drained of colour, as he answered his own question in his mind. He turned his eyes to the human in the elvish room, and in an impressively controlled voice, demanded, "Aragorn, is what my daughter saying true?"

It took a long moment for Aragorn to draw in a breath, let it fill his chest, and then sigh, "Yes. Every word."

In a flash, Thranduil was up close, a claw like grip on Aragorn's shoulder, as he roared, "Who? What man or monster dared to hurt, invade, violate my son? He impregnated him, he is killing him and he is nowhere near him." The Elven King's eyes were wild, blazing with a furious fire which Aragorn recognised; the expression was identical to Legolas' when he was angry.

"He is dead. I killed him," Aragorn stated bluntly. "It was an insane human, but it was not me. I would never hurt Legolas, surely you know that? I have never touched your son."

The Elven King was about to say more, he had a lot to say Aragorn was sure, but it was then that a sombre looking Healer slipped through the door of Legolas' room, and Thranduil whipped around, demanding, "How is he, is he…?"

"I am sorry, so sorry," the Healer began, and a horrified cry fought itself from Aragorn's throat at the words. Icy fear froze every vein, every muscle, every nerve, and had he not been sitting in a chair, Aragorn would have fallen to the floor. Legolas… yet the Healer continued, "but he lost the child." The ice flooded away, melting, and in that moment realization hit, but the Healer interrupted Aragorn's jumbled thoughts. "However, the Prince himself will be alright, physically, in a few days. His body was weak from the previous injuries, and from carrying the child." She gave a small smile to Thranduil, and told him, "He is asking for his family."

The elves rose without a word, but the cold glares Caradlas and Baranlas sent Aragorn's way kept him in his seat. He was not family, he could not go with them. He would wait.

He was left alone with Gostern, and the elf sighed, "You should ignore Baranlas. He is protective of his younger brother. It was not your fault."

Hopelessly, Aragorn asked, "Do you not see? It was my fault. I should have gone with him. If I had been there… it would never have happened. But no, I let him go on his own, because I was too tired and too busy to go. That is mostly why I lied."

000

Stretched out in the warm confines of the bed, Legolas found himself curling slightly into himself, trying to get into a comfortable position, attempting to avoid the thudding ache in his stomach which had not left. But he wiped the grimace from his face as his family filed solemnly into the room, each with a troubled expression on their faces; his Atar, his brow furrowed, Caradlas, his lips twisted, Barnalas, his eyes narrowed and Luinlas, her mouth pursed. No Aragorn.

"Where is my fiancé?" Legolas questioned, forcing as much of a smile as he could manage onto his face to greet his family. His arms were folded over his abdomen, one of his hands surreptitiously rubbing there, trying to ease the ache. "Surely he was out there?"

The other elves glanced at each other, talking silently, until Thranduil took a breath and sighed, "You can drop the act now ion nin. Aragorn is not your fiancée; you do not love him as you claimed to. He told us what happened." Although Legolas had expected to find himself angry, disappointed maybe, upset… he felt relieved. It was the end of all that had happened. The child was at last gone, there would be no more lies, Aragorn would be able to save the world as he was destined to… all would be well. So long as they could forgive him for his betrayal.

"How could you hide from us like that Legolas? What were you thinking? How could you… were you scared that we… what was it that kept the truth from us? How did you think that we would think any less of you?" Luinlas appeared more disappointed than angry as she spoke. "We love you."

Legolas found tears rising to his eyes, at the last words, but he said, "I was scared. That was all it was."

Caradlas continued for the family, "You ought to be able to talk to us Legolas. That is our… our job. We ought to be helping you, not some human who you have known for little more than a decade!"

"Do not dare insult Aragorn," snarled Legolas, sitting up despite the hurt. His hands twisted into the sheets, creating furious claws in the fabric. "You have no idea how good he has been to me. Putting up with more than any of you would from me. Always doing the best thing. I would rather he was in here, being tender and having the heart to ask how I was feeling having just miscarried rather than berating me and accusing my friends and being so very cold." His father and siblings drew back, horrified, but without a word, Luinlas backed away and disappeared for a minute. As she fetched Aragorn, Legolas switched his eyes across the male members of his family, trying to see if any of them could hold his gaze. They could not.

Then Aragorn stepped in, looking ever so slightly timid, but when his eyes locked onto Legolas', his shoulders straightened and he ignored the other elves and perched on the bed. Without a word, he slipped a hand through Legolas' and gave a gentle smile. "I would ask how you are feeling, but I can imagine you are probably already tired of that question from your family. And it is a foolish question."

Uncomfortably, Baranlas coughed and Caradlas shifted on his feet. However, Legolas smiled, and said, "Perhaps a little foolish. But it is nice to be asked all the same." It was amazing, how this rugged, long haired young human in a blood soaked shirt could put a room of high browed, porcelain white elves clothed in velvet and silk to shame. Legolas loved it. He shot a glare up at his family and said, "I would like a few moments alone with Aragorn if I may."

They knew that they could not disobey his 'request,' not after they had been embarrassed like that, and left the room in silence. Frowning, Aragorn asked, "What did they say?"

"That you told them what happened to me," Legolas heavily said. Aragorn flinched, but Legolas immediately told him, "But it is alright. Maybe you were right." He hesitated and then, "Please can I hold you?" Without a word, Aragorn smiled and shuffled down in the bed so that he could rest his head on the elf's shoulder. Legolas wrapped his arms around the human's form, and both sighed in unison: that was better, so much better.

After a long moment, each just relishing the touch of the other, Aragorn's hand tightened around the elf's wrist and he muttered, "I was scared."

His face pressed to Aragorn's hair, Legolas admitted, "So was I. I fear you may have noticed."

A slightly frenzied bubble of laughter escaped Aragorn's throat, as he replied, "I fear I may have done also." He frowned as he realized the slight drops on his head were tears from Legolas' eyes. The moment this revelation hit, the lithe body under him was trembling with sobs, and Aragorn tried to draw away, to meet Legolas' eyes, but the elf kept him firmly in place with tight arms. "What is it? Legolas, what is the matter?"

In a choked, wracked voice, Legolas brokenly said, "I killed a child. My child. And I do not feel regret. I killed an innocent child, I purposely tried to. But I do not feel upset about it."

"Oh Legolas," sighed Aragorn, pushing himself up so that he could press a single soft kiss to the elf's jawline.

Legolas brushed him away, saying, "Do not. I should not be speaking of this to you, you were on its side, not mine."

In something of a growl, Aragorn said, "No, I was not. I was just trying to help. Always I was trying to help you out of this trouble, and I thought that I was doing the best I could, but I was not. I never asked you what you thought, I never helped you sort out your head, organize your thoughts, make your decisions. You felt you had to do it in secret, all these secrets… all these lies Legolas. But it is over now, everything is over now."

Almost violently, Legolas grabbed Aragorn close, but his whisper was soft, if a little hoarse. "Not everything; saw that not everything is over Aragorn. The admissions of love, they were not lies were they? Because mine were not."

"No!" gasped Aragorn. "Those words were true, every syllable. Surely you could tell that from my feelings, from our kisses?" He drew back, away from the elf and this time Legolas' arms fell away. "I love you Legolas and I will never let you forget that."

Giving a weary smile, Legolas said, "That at least is one good thing come out from all this darkness." There was suddenly the sound of shouting outside the room, and Legolas sighed, "I suppose we ought to bring them back in." As he spoke, Aragorn slipped under the covers to get closer to him.

At the words though, Aragorn raised an eyebrow and said, "Only if you feel up to it. The Healers could say that you do not." But already Legolas was shaking his head.

"I do not particularly, but I thought we had decided on no more lies," He said, almost disappointed in the young human, but refusing to let it show on his face.

"I said it in jest only," Aragorn mumbled, lying back down with his head on Legolas' shoulder. That way he did not see the slight hint of pain in the tightness around Legolas' eyes. Legolas' arm twined around his waist as the elf called out to his family.

"You may come back in."

They obeyed, looking disgruntled, and Legolas sighed, "I do not care what is being said between you. I honestly do not. I am just having this final word and then I never wish to be reminded of this period of my life again. I was raped by a man I thought of as a friend, he impregnated me with a child I despised and could have brought about my death. I have suffered, Aragorn has suffered also, equally unduly. Now I just wish to be left in peace for a while with the man I intend to marry when the time is right, not when you dictate. Despite the deceit, there is nothing and no one who can keep me from Aragorn. He is devoted to me and did all that anyone ever could. If I ever have children, it will be with him because I love him more than any other."

Aragorn could not look up as the elves listened to this. He kept his head down on Legolas' chest, one hand in the elf's and the other on the base of Legolas' stomach, rubbing gently where the pain was worst. Ever so subtly, Legolas arched up into the touch which seemed to caress away the ache. Once, he moved his hand to position Aragorn's hand lower, where it hurt the most.

"This is your choice?" Thranduil asked, and Legolas nodded vindictively.

"I have not had much choice so far, but he has always been my first. I wish to be left alone with him now please, it is getting late and I am tired, exhausted."

"Of course." Within moments they were gone, almost hurrying to escape, and Legolas was able to moan in appreciation of Aragorn's ministrations.

"That feels good," he purred, as Aragorn slid his hand under the elf's shirt to come in contact with the hot flesh there.

"That was in fact the point," Aragorn grinned. "I think you will find in time that I know many ways to bring pleasure."

Legolas raised his eyebrows at that. "Why do I get the feeling you have been hiding things from me also Aragorn?"

**A/N: Happy? Sad? Tell me? Fic's coming to a close.**


	8. Epilogue

Disclaimer: For the last time, not mine

Aragorn lay there, prone on the mud slicked floor, sucking oxygen into his lungs, in and out, in and out. He closed his eyes, blocking out the light of stars and fires, and wished he could close his ears as well, to block out the terrified screams of horses that could smell the death and fear, the panicked shouts of the villagers and the pained yells of the injured. Soon the howls of misery would join them, as women discovered the deaths of their husbands, sons and fathers. He knew he ought to stand, to help, to do his duty, but the orcs were dead and gone, and he could hear a Dúnedan taking control.

Almost silent footsteps approached, and were his head not on the ground, he would not have heard them. Elvish or Dúnedan, Aragorn decided, and the thought that it might be an elf made his heart race. A message from Legolas, at last, after a year of separation? Desire, longing and pain ripped through him, as it always did when he was reminded of how much he missed the blonde elf. Tears veiled his eyes as he opened them, but a white hand hovered above him, offering a help up, and he accepted it gratefully.

As he got to his feet, his head swum with the blood rushing to it, and before he could mutter his thanks, he was pulled into a tight and oh so blissfully familiar embrace. The only coherent thought he could muster was, "Ai Legolas." Every inch of the lithe but deceptively strong body against his… the smell of the cloth that he buried his nose in… Even with his eyes squeezed shut against the tears that were threatening to spill over again… it was his Legolas. Aragorn had been sent away just days after Legolas had lost the baby, though the elf was not healed properly physically let alone emotionally. He had not seen or heard from him since.

Legolas' hand was knotting in Aragorn's hair, and guiding the human's head towards him. Lips pressed to Aragorn's forehead, scattering them feverishly. As he clung to the elf, Aragorn could only hear his name being whispered to him, rapidly through the night.

"Oh my love, oh my Legolas," Aragorn mumbled, unable to make any other words coherent.

Suddenly, Legolas pulled away ran his eyes across Aragorn's features, drinking in the sight. He cupped the human's pale face between his hands, and found tears under his skin. "You are crying. Are you alright? Are you hurt? Did I hurt you?"

"Stop talking," Aragorn instructed, and slammed his lips into the elf's. Elbereth, it had been so long, but still Legolas tasted the same.

"Aragorn! Aragorn!" The demanding voices made Aragorn's back stiffen, and his hands tightened on Legolas.

There was a deep sigh in his ear from the elf, and, momentarily, the embrace became crushing, and he could not breathe. "You have to go to them," Legolas said, softly. Though no one would have heard, it added an urgency and yet a privacy to the words.

"I do." Very slowly, very reluctantly, Aragorn pulled away. "I am sorry, so sorry."

"Do not be," Legolas said, that familiar, slightly crooked smile twisting his mouth.

Aragorn began to turn away, his hands sliding down Legolas' arm to his hand, but before he let go, he hesitantly asked, "You will be here when I come back?"

"I am not leaving," Legolas assured him, and watched the younger male make his way towards the lights. In the firelight, Legolas could see the human's silhouette change: his shoulders straightened, his chin came up, and his voice rose above the chaos, making orders, taking charge. Behind him, his horse approached, and Legolas leant back against her. "He has changed." Hanoni nuzzled at his ear, and Legolas sighed. "You are right; so have I."

000

"Where were you?" asked Menercis, as he carried the plank of wood away from the site of destruction.

Aragorn, holding the other end of it, asked, "When?" whilst feeling a hot flush taking over his cheeks.

"Immediately after. There was a quarter of an hour when we could not find you." Fifteen minutes, was that how long they had been locked together for? It did not feel like they were together for as long. He could not hold or be held by Legolas for long enough, not ever.

"Sorry, I…" Aragorn invented quickly, "was hit over the head. I just had to get my breath back." With Menercis, he threw down the plank and stood back up with a sigh.

Menercis reached out, looking concerned, "Are you alright, do you need to sit? The last thing we needs is you keeling over."

Unable to help but roll his eyes, Aragorn assured him, "Do not fret, I am fine. And we are almost done." Hands on his hips, his eyes ranged over the village. "The injured are being tended, I could help them though, the dead are being sorted by their families, the fires are doused…"

"Go, rest for a little while," Menercis said, with a smile. "There are five of us." Suddenly, his eyes flicked up, and he frowned. "Who is that?" Aragorn followed his gaze, and could not help but grin. "Do we know him? He is staring."

"That is my betrothed," said Aragorn, in an almost hungry voice. He had been excused – Menercis led the group of Dúnedain for now, until Aragorn was experienced enough to take charge – and he was going to take full advantage of that. With a smirk back at his friend, he made his way towards Legolas. Although he wanted to, he resisted the urge to fall into Legolas' arms; it felt… awkward after the abrupt enthusiasm of earlier. Avoiding Legolas' piercing blue eyes, he muttered, "How are you? You were not well when I had to leave you."

A frown flickered across Legolas' forehead, but it was wiped away from centuries of tight elven control over his emotions. "I am better," he replied, studying Aragorn with an intensity that made his blue eyes darken. "Particularly now." Before Aragorn could think of anything else to say, Legolas rapidly continued, "Do you want to get away from these others?"

"Yes," was Aragorn's immediate response. He could feel the eyes of the Dúnedain on them, and all he wanted to do was fold himself back into Legolas' arms. He could not stand the idea though that they would see him break down, and he was so close to that already. Legolas had begun to walk away, his hand twitching at his side as if he longed to reach out for Aragorn's. Legolas did not stop until they were submerged in thick forest, hidden between dense trees.

"Are you angry at me?" Aragorn asked, reaching out a hand to grab at Legolas' arm. The silence was too oppressive, and the quiet from the forest did not help. "What did I do to anger you?"

For a moment, Legolas just leant back against a lichen coated tree, and stared up at the thick branches above him. "No, I am not angry, I… do not know what I feel and I do not know what we ought to do."

Aragorn's breath escaped him in a long sigh, and he took a step forwards, closing the gap between them so he could lean against Legolas' front. It took a minute, a whole long minute before Legolas wrapped his arms tightly around the human. Aragorn buried his head into Legolas' neck, just listening to the elf's breathing. He could feel Legolas' chest moving, but that was the only motion. "You have grown thin," Aragorn told Legolas, overwhelmed by the need to fill the silence.

"So have you, so I fear you are not qualified to tell me off for this," Legolas merely replied, in a voice beginning to warm in emotion. "Food was not what I wanted after… everything. I…"

Gently, Aragorn interrupted, hating the way that Legolas' voice was breaking as he spoke. Damnation, Legolas was supposed to be the strong one. "You do not have to talk about that," Aragorn said, "Not if you do not want to." He had noticed how Legolas had not dared step into the village to help with the clear up of the attack, and he understood why. For elves, a year was nothing, and an emotional trauma like the one Legolas had withstood could take lifetimes to heal, if they could at all. Aragorn only had one lifetime.

"I do not know if I do or do not," Legolas confessed, "All I knew was that… I had to get back to you." Aragorn melted a little, but let the elf continue. "My family, when they made you leave, they thought it would be good for me, so that I was not reminded of what had happened, and so that they could concentrate on making things right between the family, but they were wrong. And I knew how long a year is for a human, and so much can happen in that time, and…"

Again, Aragorn was forced to intervene. "Nothing has happened Legolas, just… calm down, please." His hand splayed out on Legolas' chest, and he could feel the elf's rapid heartbeat.

Legolas' head tipped back up, and, in a slower voice, and a bleak tone, asked, "Do you still have feelings for me? Has there been anyone else? Have I left it too long?"

Aragorn shook his head against Legolas' neck, "I do not know why you are worrying about this Legolas," he said, pulling back to raise his hand to the elf's soft, unblemished cheek. "I loved you before, and I love you now, in this moment, and I hope to love you for years after this day. There was never any other who held my heart."

Sighing, Legolas bowed his head so that his forehead met Aragorn's. "I am sorry. Right now, I do not know how I am supposed to react, or what to do. This… you... my body may be fixed, and my mind to some extent, but not my heart. May heart cries out for you."

"You have it, you heave me," Aragorn promised, his hand moving from Legolas' cheek to his hair. "But do I have you? Are you…?"

"Aragorn, for the past three hundred and thirty two days, my thoughts have been on you. You have been… I do not know where, but you have been moving and fighting and been active and I spent six months of that time being confined to my room, and… I missed you so much. I just wanted to hold you, and kiss you, touch you and make you mine."

"Oh, Legolas," sighed Aragorn, helplessly, but Legolas shook his head.

"I love you, Aragorn," he murmured, briefly meeting Aragorn's lips in a touch that was barely a brush. Aragorn almost whimpered at the sweetness, and then the painful absence. "And if my absence has not pushed us apart, we can try again. We can find again what we both know we feel."

Feeling as if he were in another one of his dreams Aragorn stared into Legolas' crystal blue eyes, and the emotions he saw raging there made his own eyes water. "We have not had the best of starts, not at all, but all that can be forgotten because it brought us together," he earnestly said, and his stomach flip-flopped at the relief and joy in Legolas' smile. But, without warning, it was gone, and Legolas was staring over Aragorn's shoulder.

"Erm… Aragorn, my lord?" The hesitant voice of Menercis said, from behind Aragorn.

Letting out a moan of annoyance, Aragorn leant forwards to rest his head on Legolas' shoulder. The elf remained staring straight at Menercis, every muscle tense as he held Aragorn almost painfully tightly. In a muffled voice, Aragorn said, "Legolas this is my squad leader, Menercis, Menercis, this is Prince Legolas of Eryn Lagaslen."

Aragorn could almost hear Menercis' eyebrows raise at the introduction, as the older Dunedain coughed and muttered, "It is nice to meet you, my Lord, but would it be possible, Aragorn if you could return to the village; they are worried about you and the Head wished for your presence."

Before he could respond, Legolas said, "No, it is not possible. There is no emergency that summons him, is there?"

"Not as such, but-"

"Then you can not have him," Legolas said, in a voice that was both haughty and challenging. His hold of Aragorn suddenly felt very possessive, and the human grinned into the elf's tunic: that was what he wanted. There was a long moment of silence, in which Aragorn knew the two leaders were trying to outstare each other. He also knew that Legolas would win. True to prediction, Menercis soon muttered, "Do not be too long."

Aragorn wondered whether he should reply, but Legolas beat him to it, biting out, "He will take as long as he wants." Aragorn had to smirk and knew that he ought to protest Legolas' domineering action, or claim that he would return quickly to do his duty, but he was really quite happy where he was. The Dúnedain returned to their loves in spring or summer, right now he was going to be with his.

Menercis merely made a grumbling noise, despising his authority being challenged by anyone but Aragorn, and left them alone. Trying to savour the moment, Aragorn waited for Legolas to speak, but he did not. Instead, the elf began to nibble lightly at Aragorn's neck, and the human had to gasp. The words, "What are you doing?" escaped Aragorn's lips, despite the fact he knew exactly what the elf was doing, as his hands moved to the ties of Aragorn's shirt.

"Do not play so innocent," Legolas murmured, and then hesitated. "I am sorry, am I doing this too fast?"

Aragorn blushed, feeling embarrassed, and replied, "A little, Legolas, I… I am tired, and hurt." Legolas' eyes widened, but Aragorn did not let him speak, "Not badly, but I have been fighting." He sighed, and regretfully pulled away. "In the morning, everything will be different and we can pick up from where we left off." He twined his hand with Legolas' and began to lead him off back towards the village.

Legolas followed, but sighed, "Aragorn, I was not going to stay. I was going to take you away."

Shoulders sagging, Aragorn stumbled for one step, but replied, "Legolas, I can not leave, I have a duty to these people, and I am young, and I need to learn and to help." For a minute, he nervously worried his lip, but then added, "Please do not leave."

In a shaky voice, Legolas said, "I will not, I will stay with you. I am not leaving you now. I was just not what I planned." Aragorn knew exactly what he was thinking.

"I have my own hut, divided from the others," he said, casually. They would be alone, Legolas was free to act however he wished, there would be no comments, and no one to hear them. As they continued, Aragorn was sure that Legolas' steps help something more of a skip.

000

It had been unbearably tense, waiting for Aragorn to get to sleep. For the first time, the human had turned away from Legolas' gaze to undress, whereas before they had been so comfortable with each other. And then he had settled into the small, single bed, inviting Legolas in, but they had not touched. The curves of Aragorn's body were at all times 3 inches away from Legolas', though every nerve of his body cried out for him to close the distance, and Elbereth he wanted to. But everything was strange. Every touch had sent sparks of fire through him, every time Aragorn spoke in that rough, and coarse voice, his stomach bubbled. But it was awkward, it was difficult, it was different now. There was a division between them, and Legolas did not know how to close it.

His arms crossed over his chest, and he shivered. Sine the child, he felt the cold far more than before, and it would take just three inches to warm himself against the back of the man he loved. The young man loved him back, he could see that, but he did not know how to show it. Neither of them did. Legolas should not have pounced on Aragorn, but he was feeling so… he did not even know. Tears sprang up to his eyes, all he wanted was to love and be loved by Aragorn. He had had spent so long caught in thought of him, in fear of abandonment.

He sighed and glanced across the small, wooden hut Aragorn had been living in. Should he leave? Would it be better for Aragorn if they parted again, until they were ready? It was late, in an hour or so the sun would start to rise… Without warning, Aragorn turned, and rolled up against Legolas. The elf heard his name being muttered out, in a voice that screamed of arousal. Legolas had to chuckle, and, though still hesitant, wrapped an arm around the human, securing them close together.

Closing his eyes, he surrendered to sleep. He would deal with the rest in the morning.

000

When Aragorn woke up, it was to the most pleasant feeling he had had in a long time. A very painfully long time. Enveloped in another's arms, tightly cushioned against Legolas' chest… suddenly everything was perfect. It did not matter what had happened before, it was gone, and the effects on Legolas… he did not know how long they would be there for, if they would ever fade. But this was Legolas, his Legolas, however he changed. Everything was perfect, right at this moment.

He turned, shuffling round so that he could face the elf. For a long, long time, he just stared at those perfect features, which were so immaculate, as if they were sculpted by the finest artist, from the finest porcelain. He knew that he wanted to wake up next to them every morning, every dawn, fall asleep next to them every night.

The dawn was breaking outside the hut, he could tell from the light beginning to seep through, and he knew that he would have to wake Legolas up. And he knew the best way to do so.

000

There was no better way to wake than with those lips against his, in an oh so familiar kiss. Without opening his eyes, Legolas murmured, "Good morning, my love."

There was a pause as Aragorn pulled away, and Legolas knew he was grinning before actually forcing his eyes open. The smile made his heart race, and Legolas reached up to twine his fingers into Aragorn's hair to bring their lips back together. Their kiss started gently, sweetly, but heated up rapidly, with Aragorn's morning hardness against Legolas' leg, until Legolas rolled and found himself on top of Aragorn instead, leaning over the human.

"No good morning?" Legolas queried, the greatest portion of his mind fixed on the heat of Aragorn's groin that had been moved against his.

"No, none," Aragorn replied with a grin as feral as the one on Legolas' face, wiggling under Legolas' weight, and his grin increased when the elf's head tipped back as a burst of pleasure shot through him. "Words are not always needed," Aragorn told him. It was always an odd sensation to have an elf lying on top of him; they had little weight, and yet their lithe form looked as if they should. And the warmth that radiated from Legolas was the same as with any human, and yet the touch of his skin could frequently be so much cooler, depending on his mood. Right now, his touch was hot.

Legolas lifted himself up slightly, and his hand made his way down into Aragorn's light sleeping trousers, and this time Aragorn was the one to gasp. "Make love to me," he moaned, wantonly. "I want you, inside me." He could see the elf hesitating, and Legolas' hand stopped its incredible caresses against his manhood.

Pulling his hand away, Legolas leant down against Aragorn's chest, to fiddle with his hair. "Are you sure?" He could vividly remember the feeling of that monster inside him, how terrible and how painful it was. He did not want Aragorn to hurt like that, he loved him far too much to ever do that to him. Under that attack, Legolas had not been able to find any pleasure, how would he know if Aragorn would?

"Of course I am sure," Aragorn said, frowning up at the turmoil ridden azure eyes. "I would not offer if I did not want it. I have been wanting it for… so long." The last words were a sigh of desire.

"I will be gentle," Legolas promised, "I will not let you be hurt." Not as I was. You will not have to limp the hallways, you will be able to raise your head high. You will not cry yourself to sleep because of something that you regret, and yet was not your doing.

Grinning, Aragorn told him, "You do not have to be, not at all. Sometimes, being gentle, is not what the person beneath you wants." Still knowing that Legolas was nervous, Aragorn added, "What we have, what we both know we could have, that is worth a try. Surely you know that?"

Legolas did. So they tried.

000

Withdrawing from Aragorn, Legolas tipped his head back and tossed his sweat slicked hair back. Aragorn was panting hard as he collapsed, breathless against the elf. Boneless, Legolas wondered if that was the best idea. His arms were trembling with the effort of keeping them both up. Another moan escaped from Aragorn's throat, hoarse from cries of pleasure.

"Ai, Elbereth that was…"

Legolas finished the sentence, "Perfection."

Exhausted, Legolas' quaking arms gave out and he collapsed back against the pillows, pulling Aragorn with him. He wound his arms around the human and closed his eyes. "I am not going to help these villagers today am I?" Aragorn asked, his face burying into the smooth, naked chest of his lover, and could feel the rapidly pounding rhythm of Legolas' heart under his cheek.

Legolas purred his response. "No, you're mine now."

A/N: And that, folks is the end of DODC. We hope you enjoyed your flight, and we will see you again soon.


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